Four Year Old Dreams: A Letter to Emma Grace

Today was a big day for you, Emma Grace. This morning, you had a Thanksgiving program at school, and you sang so well and confidently. Daddy, Lily, and I were really proud of you up there. Then, this afternoon, the day got even more memorable. You have been close to reading for a long time, but I have been so determined to keep your joy for books alive, to avoid frustration by not pushing you too soon, that I have been staying away from reading lessons. Today, we decided to try together, and you started to recognize sight words, sound out most of the other words, and read several early reader stories with a little help. You were so excited by your new skill. We are reading simple books together, but you are doing wonderfully, and I am so proud of you. Tonight, as I snuggled you before bed, I told you that even when you are Mommy’s age, you will always be my baby. You began to tell me of your dreams for the future. You said you will still live with me when you are in your thirties. I explained that Daddy and I don’t live with our parents anymore, and you likely won’t, either. I said you’d probably have your own house and could make your own decisions. As you thought about that, you told me what you think your life will look like. Below is a close approximation of the exact words you said. I thought you would enjoy looking back on this someday when you’ve lived a few decades and have seen how your life has begun to unfold. Here is what you said: I will have a boy, a girl, and another boy. (I asked you if you were having three kids.) You said, “Yes,” and then proceeded to describe them a bit. The one boy will have brown hair. The other boy will have blonde hair, and the girl will have, um, brown hair, too. I will live on a farm. (I asked you who would do all of the work.) You got a big smile and said, “I will have a husband.” (I then asked you if he would do all of the work, wondering if that is what you were implying with your smile.) You said, “No, I will help, too.” You told me more about your farm. I will have a pet. I will have a dog and a cat. I will have bales of hay down the hill and a weeder (you meant feeder :-)) for the birds with food in it. I will have geese. I will have cows, too. (Aside from the geese, you are describing Grandpa and Grandma’s farm, your four-year-old vision of a dream life. It will be fun to see if this is what you continue to want as you get older. As I listened to your hopes, I told you that it sounds like you will have a very busy house, filled with three kids and lots of animals. I said that I will love to visit you in your busy home.) I love you so much, my favorite four-year-old. I am proud of you for having new skills and big dreams. Often, things happen differently from our childhood plan. I wanted to name my kids “Kiki” and “Orgis” when I was your age. :-) Still, it’s great to have an imagination and a sense of hope for your future. You, my Emma, are beyond my wildest dreams. I am so thankful that no matter what my plan was when I was four, I got wonderful you. I couldn’t have dreamed big enough to know that I was going to get to be your mommy.

Remember Me?

About a month ago, I was struggling for energy, patience, and resiliency. I realized that, in trying to love my children well over the past nearly five years, I have often forgotten myself. I can’t really complain. I certainly know others that have it much worse than I do. Most of my self-neglect has been self-inflicted. I’ve read the same articles that everyone else has, reminding us to take care of us first. I’ve heard the warnings about putting on your own oxygen mask before assisting others. Still, my strong desire to be the best mom possible (which is still quite an imperfect mom anyway) had, after almost half a decade, left me without reserves to handle some of the everyday challenges involved with raising small children. I pray each morning to be the best wife and mother that I can be, but I finally recognized that I needed to remember to take care of me if I wanted to take care of those I love most. I talked it over with my husband, who was in complete agreement and support (very lucky me.) So, I decided to make some pledges to myself. I would begin to exercise regularly so that I had the energy to keep up with the kids. I know, I am making it about them again, but these are baby steps, and it truly is my deep desire to be all I can for them. I joined a local gym and started working out and going to classes. I think both psychologically and physiologically, this had dramatic effects. It said to me, “You are important enough to take care of you,” and it really did give me hugely increased energy levels and a sense of looking forward to both my time away from my family and subsequently my time with them. The gym even has treadmills with individual TVs…what could be more decadent to a mom of little ones? I did not begin the gym thing casually. I went every other night, taking classes that were labeled “intermediate” to “advanced.” My whole body ached the first week and a half, but my heart felt lighter. My husband has been incredible about increasing his responsibility with the kids in addition to his work responsibilities. He loves the results of a more content, alive, engaged me. I have to say, I love them, too. My next promise was to get more sleep. Honestly, I am still struggling with this one. I stay up too late at night given that I have to get the girls up and ready for Emma’s preschool in the morning. When I do get to bed early, I experience increased patience the next day. Still, it is hard to turn in early when I know that that is my me time or our couple time. This one is a work in progress. I also decided to cut myself some parenting slack. Potty training was making wonderful progress here, but then the progress stopped and regressed, and it was becoming too stressful on everyone. I gave myself permission to say that this is a developmental step, and we just aren’t there yet. Letting that one go for now made my days and my moods much less messy, and I’m pretty sure my two-year-old is happier now, too. Finally, I made the huge leap to say that it was okay to have fun without my children. This was tough, (it even looks rather ugly in print to me here), but it had huge pay offs. Conant was gone on a business trip and called home to tell me he needed to go on another one, to sunny California. I had had a rougher than usual week at home alone with the kids, culminating that night with an incredibly messy scene that required much clean up. I won’t go into details, but it was my breaking point. I told him I really didn’t want to be left again so soon. He invited me to go with him. I laughed. Then, my wheels started turning. We had a flight voucher. Here was a very inexpensive vacation at a nice hotel in California. We could add on a free night at another nice hotel with points, and we were a ten minute walk from Disneyland. My parents checked their schedules and generously agreed to give the girls their own vacation on the farm. I wrote a note to each girl for each morning, wrapped them up a small gift for each day (a craft, a game, or a snack so they knew we were thinking of them), and packed us up for our trips. Conant and I had an incredible time embarking on an adventure together. Though he had to work all but the last day, we had amazing meals together, walked on the beach, and experienced sunset over the ocean.

 

Disneyland was the perfect blend of no responsibility and enjoying one another’s company. It was such a gift to our marriage. Which, ironically, is a gift to the children we left behind. I felt so guilty thinking of going to Disneyland without our kids. Before I even met Conant, I had been to Disney in Florida, in France, and in Japan. I love the magic of Disney, but it was hard to think of going without the girls. Before we left, Emma asked, “Is there a Disney in California? Are you going there?” I nervously told her, “Yes,” but she simply replied with happiness for me. I am grateful for girls with such big hearts. From the moment I stepped on Disney grounds, I felt like skipping. I thought, “This really is the Happiest Place On Earth!” Ride after ride, princess after princess, parade float after parade float, I couldn’t help but smile. I was there, having an amazing time, with my best friend.

 

We took the first flight home Monday morning so that we could take our Supergirls out for Halloween at night.

 

Throughout the trip, I called them a few times a day, but on Monday, I couldn’t wait to get my arms around them. When I saw them for the first time in five days Monday afternoon, they both snuggled on my lap with their arms wrapped around my neck. In that moment, I realized that Disneyland was incredible, but MY “Happiest Place On Earth” was my very own living room, with those four sweet little arms hugging their mommy. I was recharged, refreshed, and filled with a renewed appreciation for all that I have been given. After embarking on my own “Remember Me?” campaign, I am more fit in body, mind, and spirit, and I am more grateful than ever for the little ones that bring love and laughter to our home and to this mom. Maybe there is something to that oxygen mask metaphor after all.0