Firework

Once upon a time you happened. That moment I was in the bathroom. First floor of our house. I realized I was pregnant. I then found out it was a girl. My dreams and hopes of a little me was coming true.

After 9 long months of pregnancy came you. My baby girl.

I did all the thing I thought I should. I bathed you often, taking care of every detail. Your water, diapers, warm wipes, lotions and towels. Every part of you being. And my care for you was always first priority.

Every moment with you has been amazing. You are just a ray of sunshine when you enter a room. From your ‘All about Me’ attitude, your sassy but sweet approach to each day.

You grew into long blonde hair, big blue eyes, your tiny in size, but again show your mother’s side of pure feisty when anyone challenges you.

 

Your creative, your funny, your outgoing, love to dance, sing, and just be. And this my baby girl is you. The creature who took over my heart and reason for being.

Not that I ever intended to grow up, or be adult like. I for some reason realized I didn’t like children, small does of children, sure, but for to long of time, or if for some reason they got to whiney, or needy, my dislike for them grew.

So being your MOM and a Stay At Home Mom at that, I quickly realized I had to get over my loathing of whiney needy children.

I’ve instead realized that you, like so many other children are the way for adults to remember. To remember that we are all whiney needy people.

That need to be reminded to live. Out loud.

To laugh. At everything. To smile when your mom is ‘frustrated’ or ‘angry’ over barking dogs and spilt milk. To remind her that it’s life. It’s ok.

That’s you. You remind me.

You remind me of the kid that I once was, not only do you fill my heart with love of being your mom, but you make me, me again.

I’m sorry for the PPD. It was a part of me that pulled us apart. Well to me it did. You still look at me every day as if I’m some sort of amazing person. You say I’m the best mommy, the best cook, the funniest. I think I could be better for you. For both of you.

Now being pregnant with the two of you only being 22 months apart it wrecked my brain. I thought I was stronger then PPD. I thought I couldn’t go crazy. I wasn’t on meds, I didn’t see a shrink, I was just dealing with a new life, with two new people to care for. Little people at that.

Barking dogs, screaming kids, whiney kids, husband working 3 jobs, no money, laundry, housework and trying to find the new me all with out losing the old me in the mix, caused me to be in some serious denial of Post Partum Depression.

Often you called me ‘Sad mommy’ or ‘angry mommy’ needing time outs (that’s how I would handle a meltdown) but I feel that I took from you. I took from our time together, and now with your brother I feel I did the same.

But it’s been 5 years my baby. 5 LONG years. Of you and me. Adding in your brother. All of it makes us who we are, and what we are. All this stems from the fact that today was your Preschool graduation.

OMG. I cried typing that out. Pre.school. is OVER for you. I remember your first day. You were SO excited. I was SO upset. I sat in that parking lot and sobbed.
Today I sat with family, and the great preschool mom friends I have made, I cried that in 8 months you went from little girl, just 4 years old to all of a sudden your getting a diploma and the tell me you’re a Kindergartener?! From 3 days a week for 2.5 hours a day. To ALL day on a bus school?! And need I remind you that your FIFTH birthday. Yes 5 is coming up? Two weeks and a day?!

So yesterday I surprised you and POWER cleaned your room. I mean ALL the clothes on the floor, the toys, the mess. It took me ALL day. CLEAN. The mess is of coarse yours, but part my fault. Those clothes went back as far as 24 months. (party lazy me, part that I couldn’t let go, and part I LOATHE laundry of any kinds) Some child with less then you will enjoy them.  And we can go on enjoying your wonderful room.

Writing you this I’m trying to figure where I’m going with it. Is it a “I’m sorry I didn’t give my all the last 5 years” I thought I did then. Looking back I feel like I didn’t. Or is this a “Holy Canoli my baby is growing up SO fast and I can’t hold on to her so I need to jump on and just enjoy the ride” I think it’s both.

As I learned with Maggie May, I didn’t pick her out at the pet store. She picked out me. As did you. Sure I made you, I created you my little human, but you. YOU make me who I am now. You teach me, if not more then I teach you. To be me. To let us be us. If I just LET you and me pick out who we want to be.

To not fight the angry whiney needy child in either of us.

But to embrace who we are. My baby and I. To remember you are me. You’re a tiny version of me, in a WHOLE new world. Let’s enjoy this ride my princess.

In the words of you “Girls only, right mom?” (when your dad is at work and your brother is napping and we have snuck to the art room for some us time)

“Can this just be a girl day?” (when your brother is still asleep and you’ve woken me at 7 am on the weekend)

And hoping that you forget, that there was ever these words uttered by you “Mom I wish you weren’t always angry mommy then sad mommy”

Let’s make this the best summer ever My Bella.

You Feisty Mom.

xoxo…