Dear Lily: 2013 Addition

Dear Lily,

I am giving you these words shortly after your 6th birthday.  At age 6, you are smart, funny, sassy, girly, and struggling to absorb and practice all the lessons that take a lifetime to learn - to share, to be generous, to love, to focus on the things we can't see, instead of the things we have.  You love all things pink and sparkly, but you also are intrigued by spiders, soccer, and all animals.  You adore your best friends - Bailey, Anna, Elijah, and Molly.  You thrive on the magic of stories and myth - currently, pixies/fairies and unicorns are the stuff of your imagination.  You switched schools this year and are almost reading.  You just started ballet, love fashion (your own), and you LOVE your friends.

It has been an arduous journey for me to 1. acknowledge who you are and 2. nurture the things in you that are different from me.  I think I am doing a good job; I hope and pray everyday that I am doing a good job.  Your dad and I get comments all the time: "Are you SURE this is your daughter?" or "I'm not sure about the DNA here..."  It's all in good fun.  I adore the little girl that you are and have learned SO much from the process of affirming your selfhood in the same way that I want to be affirmed. You are, quite simply, the love of my life.  In your 6th year, we are very connected and I am so grateful that I get to be your mom.   

This year has held some life-altering changes for our family.  We have talked to you about what is happening between your dad and I by using the vocabulary of "changes."  You know that things are shifting and you seem to be aware that your dad doesn't sleep at our house anymore.  We haven't used the vocabulary of divorce yet and you haven't been to where your dad lives.  Dad and I are trying to be SO intentional about doing things the best way possible and to keep what is best for you as our first priority.

Sometimes we disagree about what is best for you and our own desires get confused with your best interests, but at the end of the day, we are doing our best.  It is our deepest fear that this will scar you for life, as our dominant culture tries to make us believe.  However, we both know success stories from divorced families and also emotionally stunted individuals from two-parent families.  I think it's more about how we choose to love each other during this process.

Someday, when you are older, I will share more and more with you of your dad and I's story.  It's a really sad story, in a lot of ways.  But the thing that trumps everything - all the heartbreak and sadness - is YOU.  You were worth all of this.  You ARE worth all of this. 

That's the most important thing - that you understand how loved you are and for you to be able to grow into who you are with the support of your mom and dad as emotionally healthy humans.  I think we are both going to be better people in the long run.

But that doesn't mean this hasn't been the hardest thing I have ever experienced.  Breaking apart something that was supposed to be permanent is an immensely painful, heartbreaking process.  Your dad and I don't agree on many things and we deal with issues in different ways.  We even narrate this story in completely different ways.  Both ways are true.  We are both just doing our best.

It is important for you to know that your dad and I are not opposing forces.  We are both here, for you and for each other.   Others have entered into this situation with the common view that we have to be against each other.  But don't listen to that mindset - we choose to live in a different way.  We try our best to live in a different way.  We do our best.  I hope you grow up with that understanding.

And I hope you know that neither your dad or I are "bad" humans.  We both made mistakes, treated each other badly, and we both, willingly, accept 50% of the blame for our marriage failing.  This is our truth.  It's easier to name a villain and treat that person in a way that is the opposite of love, but I hope that your dad and I are showing the young you that it doesn't have to be this way.  This scenario is applicable in so many areas of life - you can use this lesson at any time: to choose love in the face of the "easier" route of finger-pointing and hate.  But non-love eats you up Lil, I want you to know that.  Love is always the better choice, even though it requires more effort.  I hope that when you look back, you will see that Dad and I are trying to demonstrate this, in real life, in one of the hardest situations imaginable. 

You are so, SO loved.  Everything I do is about you.  Our family is still a family, we are just putting ourselves together in a different shape. 

As you get older, we will be able to share more about this time and navigate the difficulty of divorce together.  I just want you to know that we are doing our very best.  I hope you can learn something about love from this brokenness and maybe something about how to treat people from this journey.  Please know that I am doing the best I can, even though I fail sometimes.

So, round-faced, laughing, jumping, boy-crazy daughter of mine, this is my gift to you, for later.  I want you to be able to see my heart from the distance of time.  I want to share with you and anyone else who reads this blog what I want you to know. God is love and we are the tangible expressions of that love.

Love,
Mom

dear lily: kindergarten edition

Dear Lily,

Tomorrow you go to your first day of Kindergarten.  Seems pretty simple when I write it that way - tomorrow you go to Kindergarten for the first time.  A public school for the first time.  An almost entire day away from us, for the first time.  A classroom full of strangers, for the first time.

Really, we've been through this before - I mean, when you started preschool, I had a really hard time.  But then, it was SO great that I loved it for BOTH of us.  I know it will be the same with kindergarten in my head, but my heart is so sad and anxious about leaving you there tomorrow until 2.  (You better believe my phone is fully charged, in case you need me to come get you. You will probably need me to come get you early, right?  Maybe 10ish?  Deal.)

And I fear the years that come after kindergarten as you grow bigger and bigger and farther and farther away from us.   You are fearful of losing me right now and make sure every day, multiple times, that you won't ever have another mommy, that you don't ever have to live in a different house with someone else.  I tell you all the things you want and need to hear, because the truth is, I need to be comforted in that way, too. 

Anyways, your dad and I are a wreck.  I wanted to tell you about this, because we both find it humorous, amidst all these crazy emotions.  His angst about you beginning kindergarten turned into irrational anger today, in a funny way.  For example, he was raving about writing "strongly-worded letters" to the elementary school about not giving us enough information about what your day would be like.  He wanted to know what time you were going to be eating lunch and was absolutely worried to death that you might not have enough time to eat your whole meal.  (You ARE an exceptionally slow eater.)  And where are the bathroom in relationship to her classroom?!? Why don't we know these things?!?

As for me, I've been weepy all day.  I cried this morning after our "last summer cuddle" in bed after we woke up.  This is silly because it's not really our last cuddle.   We did lots of fun things today - like errands.  The highlight (not surprisingly, since errands included the Post Office, bank, and a trip to ETSU) was that your mother participated in the age-old therapy of shopping.  AND, I bought shoes AND a dress.  You jumped A LOT.   I even bought you fast food today, in a completely unnecessary situation, just to completely spoil you.  We shared a fresh-squeezed strawberry lemonade too.  And a vegan chocolate chip scone.  It's the little things.

After dinner tonight, we walked to J's Corner for some ice cream - you pranced the whole way.  Your dad and I started worrying that we hadn't taught you enough - that you wouldn't know the answers to important questions - and started quizzing you on your address and, phone number, etc.  Then, we realized you didn't know what a ZERO was....  We freaked out for a minute, but then we realized we were just a wreck and laughed.  You didn't get it, but knew it had something to do with a zero.

You're really excited and you've been telling everyone you see that you are starting kindergarten.  This morning you saw our sweet elderly neighbor, Ms. Jean, outside and ran out the front door to tell her "tomorrow I am starting kindergarten!"  Then you ran back inside while she was still replying.

I think you're most excited about the lunch we packed this afternoon.  We went to the store and you got to pick out what you wanted, within reason.  You chose a turkey and cheese sandwich, a plum, Annie's cheddar bunnies, and Gummies for dessert.  It was SO exciting to pack your lunch - you even checked on it in the fridge before bed.  

Oh, and picking out your first day of school outfit was super-fun too.  Grandma will LOVE this.  You chose a perfect summer ensemble - a deep red, heavy velvet winter/Christmas dress with a semi-matching black velvet sweater, but "don't worry mom, I will take off the sweater as soon as I get to school!"  I decided that whatever made you feel confident was fine with me.  So off to the first day of school we go, in full winter/holiday garb and flip-flops. 

You understand it's going to be different and fun and that you will get to make new friends. You're a bit nervous, but mostly excited.  Your dad and I are the ones that are a wreck.  He's thinking of calling in sick in the morning so he can come drop you off and I'm planning to sit in the car outside the school all day and cry my eyes out.  I might take a book in case my tears run out, but we'll see. 

I told a friend today that it feels like I am giving you to the world.  She responded: You are giving her the world.   It's all in the way we see things.  We know you will be fine.  Dad and I will be fine too.  It's just the making it through tomorrow and being confident that when I let go of your hand that you will just be your wonderful self.  

We are so proud of you, our little kindergartner.

love, mom (and dad)

Dear Lily,

 You were the MOST fun at Epworth this summer.  Four-almost-five seems like the best age to enjoy everything that is wonderful about the Epworth experience.  I hope you won't forget (I know I won't) that first evening when, after 13 hours in the car, you went down to "look at the beach" with Mimi and Papaw while dad and I unloaded the van.  As we walked around the corner to catch up with you, this is the view that greeted us (above).  That's the most glorious sunset I've seen in a while....but also that's YOU in the water, in the bottom lefthand corner of the photo.  You couldn't resist and it's a beautiful memory.  And totally worth the trouble we got in for "swimming during vespers"! 

You are a water child this summer and it has been SO fun, especially in contrast with last summer, when you would not get in water above your knees without strangling your dad and I.

 You seem to have no fear and so much joy, a lesson I learn from you every day.

 These photos were taken before we unloaded the car and went to "look at the water"

 We also introduced you to fishing this summer.  You were intrigued by dad's skills and stayed right by him while he caught a few.  We bought you a pole the next day. 

 This was part of our daily routine - sunscreen sunscreen sunscreen!  You didn't stop smelling like it the whole trip.

 Here you are, knees bent, reeling in your first fish ever!  I caught my first fish in the lagoon too, 29 summers ago. 

 We also share the love of Blue Moon ice cream.  There are no words to describe it's summer perfect-ness. 

 We played the statue game a lot, I won't forget that either.  You would stop mid-sentence and freeze, always with fingers pointed.  "You want me to be a----"

 We played at the Ludington City Park one evening.  Mimi did something really funny on this slide. 

 Here's dad and I, married 10 years!!

 

One of my favorite things to do with you this summer was treasure-hunting in the surf - we found so many beautiful rocks!  I loved how you would say "HEYO!" when you found a good one.

 

 I continue to be SO proud of the way you eat.  You ate massive amounts of celery and hummus while we were there. 

 Here's you and Papaw walking down the 99 Steps. 

 At the lagoon again - we couldn't keep you out of the water!

 

You and I went to peek at the sunset before bed one night.  You rewarded me with this expression, which displays your sassyness perfectly.

 

 Here's you and Dad - you continue to have the most special relationship with him.

 You and Mimi fishing at the lagoon, again. 

 Family fishing, with Nancy this time.

 Every morning, you and Mimi ate cheese on bread.  I didn't ever witness it, but apparently it was quite the procedure. 

 Here's a picture of you and "Uncle" David and below, "aunt" Liz.  They were both SO sweet to you.  You also got to meet their best friends John and Jody.  You and Jody bonded instantly over your mutual obsessions of Minnie Mouse and all things Disney.  One evening, you talked for 30 minutes straight about all your toys and what you like to do.  You told her things like, "I have a bear I sleep with - her name is Daisy bear.  She's not a real bear."

 

You were patient with my wind energy obsession and were even mildly interested in the new wind park in Ludington.  

I have about 200 more photos, but the ones above capture the essence of the trip - water, fish, walking, family, fun.  We were outside ALL the time and it was wonderful.  Perhaps next year will be even better, but these memories will not soon be forgotten. 

You continue to be a smart, spunky, beautiful small human and I am so proud of who you are.

love,
Mama

Letter to Lily

Dear 4 Year Old Lily,

A while ago, I outlined what this blog was supposed to be about and who it was for. I can't find that post and you know I barely have the time to work on a princess puzzle, much less go through a thousand posts from the last 5 years... but if I remember right, this post explains how this blog is primarily for people to keep up with our little family. I absolutely love that our dear ones that live far away and don't get to see you grow check in here to see the latest. For that reason, I wish I could update more, because you're changing so much every day. Then again, some of the daily stuff is just for mom and dad to enjoy...

Like the other day, when you saw some trash on the ground and said, "Uh-oh, someone GLITTERED!"

Now that's for everyone to enjoy, but those beautiful little alternate interpretations of life make me smile and laugh every day.

Anyways, sometimes I forget that this blog is not only for others to read, but it's a letter, a journal, and a picture book from me to the adult you. (I say "adult" because you probably won't enjoy it until then...) I've noticed that sometimes I abstain from posting things that I want to tell you because I fear that I might make people uncomfortable or cause them to question your dad and I. We both prefer to avoid conflict, sometimes at great cost, as you probably know by now (adult Lily).

But sometimes, I can conquer the fear, especially when I think about how maybe I'll forget to tell you this later, or that I won't say it well. And I remember how you aren't afraid of anything (except maybe scary balls...and fans) or what anyone thinks of you yet. You are solely and simply YOU. Four year old YOU inspires me.

So Lily, I've got something to say to you. In this case, a different mom wrote this letter to her son. It is so beautifully written, full of love, and expresses so perfectly what is in my heart, that I just want you to think of it as from me to you.

What this article refers to specifically may be something we never have to deal with, but I'm sure there will be many, many other things that will require the same acceptance and love and support.

Dada and I are your biggest fans, always.

So, here's the letter - click here. To all my other readers, open your heart and see what happens... if it ruffles your feathers, we still love you too.

31-year-old Mama LOVES you, Lily-girl.

Lily's 4th Birthday Party

Lily's birthday party was a HUGE success! We all had a great time and the birthday girl had so much fun that she threw up in her bed. Not to be gross...but I will...it was birthday cake pink.

The evening was full of family and friends from our community near and far! Above, the dress-up clothes I put out for the kids to use! Also, several of our adult friends dressed up too.
Lily and "Mer-Cary" - her favorite older friend!

The scene: having so many people there was GREAT, but also crazy. We are so blessed to have so many good friends.

Below, Lily and Aunt Ha-Ha opening presents...
Lily, reaching for her extra-pink Cinderella birthday cake!

passing out the icing-covered candles to lick clean :)


One of the highlights of the night for me was playing music; we had a mandolin, a guitar or two and a djembe. Lily and her little best friend Anna danced and danced and danced for over 30 minutes - it was SO fun to watch!
Kids, playing.
Lily and Anna playing with streamers...

The birthday night was such a success and we are so grateful for the four amazing years of watching our precious girl grow and become.

Dear Adult Lily that is reading this blog,
You are amazing and you inspire your dad and I every day to be WHO WE ARE, because you are so completely WHO YOU ARE. Remember that you can be anything and we will help you arrive where you want to go. When you are 18, if you still want to be a "frog or a scary dinosaur" we will still be proud of you.
love, your biggest fans,
mama and dada.