Dearëst Zoë,
Just lately you've started answering all questions with "because that's why". I suppose it's your pint-sized version of the parent stand-by "because I said so". I really try not to use that phrase with you, partly because I remember how much I hated it as a child and partly because I think it's important to take the time to explain things on your level, to treat you like a mini-human.
Speaking of which, you've become increasingly interested in helping me in the kitchen. You determinedly drag a chair into the kitchen from the dining room table, turn it to face the counters and clamber up. We are working on understanding that the stove top and the pots on it are very hot. I'm not sure you'll completely learn that lesson till you accidentally burn yourself which is scary to think about, but since I am vigilant, if it does happen, I think it will be only minor.
Last night we made french toast. You snatched the first egg out of the carton and crushed it in your hand before I could even spit out "noooooo"! lol. You made such a mess, but I couldn't help bursting out laughing because of the surprised and guilty expression on your face. You're such a sweet child, always so eager to help, to be in on things. I picked the egg shell out and we began again with a new egg. By the time we were done you were cracking and dumping eggs all on your own, and quite adeptly too. Everything I added you insisted on helping with so we nearly ended up with a gallon of milk and an entire bottle of vanilla in there as well. When it came time to stir, you did it with a wide grin on your face and you did an excellent job of it.
I let you dunk the bread and help me with flipping it over in the pan, but mid-way through, you gave up the hard work to leaf through a gossip magazine instead. We're going to have to talk about your work ethic, young lady! lol
Dinner was delicious and tasted even sweeter because of all your help and the time we spent together in the kitchen.
I love you, sugar bear.
All my love,
Mama
Monday, January 28, 2013
Sunday, October 21, 2012
10.21.12
Dearëst Zoë,
As I have told you countless times and will tell you many times more, I am not perfect. I make many mistakes. That's partly because everything in life, even parenting, is a process, an evolution if you will, rather than a set of unbreakable rules. At least I have found it that way.
An area that continues to be murky for me is discipline. You are typically a very well-behaved child and even when you are not, it takes little effort usually to get you back on the desired path.
There are times when I forget what's most important in parenting you. I want others to see that I'm doing a good job, by whatever standard they use to measure that. For some people, that standard is punishment and discipline. To earn their approval, I have to prove that I am the one in charge, the one in control and I do that by being more authoritarian with you than I would normally feel is necessary. Afterward, I feel a seed of guilt worm its way into my heart because some part of me knows what I just did was more for the benefit of others than it was for you.
I don't actually feel the need to be in control all the time with you. I feel there are times it's perfectly acceptable to let you take the lead, make choices of your own, explore and find the consequences of your actions all on your own. I feel you recognize your mom and dad and you give us respect and love and what more could I possibly want?
Yesterday we got into a little scuffle over grapes I told you not to eat. They had pits. I told you multiple times not to eat them, but you reached for a handful anyway. I made an attempt to smack your hand which you snatched away. I felt it was important to follow through with my intended discipline and so the matter became about not preventing you from eating the grapes but proving that I had the upper hand in authority and power. I ordered you to come to me. You wouldn't. We were in a standoff. Finally, you took one tiny step towards me and then another with your lips trembling and your hands tucked one in the other at your chest like a penitent. You asked me in a quavery voice "you won't hit me?" as you kept coming towards me.
I received you with open arms. I could hear the sighs of disappointment from the panel of critics in my mind. I had failed to assert my dominance. I had failed to follow through, but at that moment, what was most important to me was your trust. You were frightened but still walking toward me. You were trusting me not to hurt you and that's a trust I don't ever want to break.
Critics contend that without harsh discipline a child is destined to grow up wild and spoiled with no sense of appropriate boundaries. Instead of capitulating and trying to prove myself, it's time I take a stand and follow the parenting style that seems best to me even if no one else approves. My focus needs to be doing what I believe is best for you, not what I think others expect of me as your mother.
You are one of the sweetest, best-natured, affectionate, well-mannered little children that know. I am honored to be your mama and I want to live up to that honor.
I love you, sweetness.
Mama
As I have told you countless times and will tell you many times more, I am not perfect. I make many mistakes. That's partly because everything in life, even parenting, is a process, an evolution if you will, rather than a set of unbreakable rules. At least I have found it that way.
An area that continues to be murky for me is discipline. You are typically a very well-behaved child and even when you are not, it takes little effort usually to get you back on the desired path.
There are times when I forget what's most important in parenting you. I want others to see that I'm doing a good job, by whatever standard they use to measure that. For some people, that standard is punishment and discipline. To earn their approval, I have to prove that I am the one in charge, the one in control and I do that by being more authoritarian with you than I would normally feel is necessary. Afterward, I feel a seed of guilt worm its way into my heart because some part of me knows what I just did was more for the benefit of others than it was for you.
I don't actually feel the need to be in control all the time with you. I feel there are times it's perfectly acceptable to let you take the lead, make choices of your own, explore and find the consequences of your actions all on your own. I feel you recognize your mom and dad and you give us respect and love and what more could I possibly want?
Yesterday we got into a little scuffle over grapes I told you not to eat. They had pits. I told you multiple times not to eat them, but you reached for a handful anyway. I made an attempt to smack your hand which you snatched away. I felt it was important to follow through with my intended discipline and so the matter became about not preventing you from eating the grapes but proving that I had the upper hand in authority and power. I ordered you to come to me. You wouldn't. We were in a standoff. Finally, you took one tiny step towards me and then another with your lips trembling and your hands tucked one in the other at your chest like a penitent. You asked me in a quavery voice "you won't hit me?" as you kept coming towards me.
I received you with open arms. I could hear the sighs of disappointment from the panel of critics in my mind. I had failed to assert my dominance. I had failed to follow through, but at that moment, what was most important to me was your trust. You were frightened but still walking toward me. You were trusting me not to hurt you and that's a trust I don't ever want to break.
Critics contend that without harsh discipline a child is destined to grow up wild and spoiled with no sense of appropriate boundaries. Instead of capitulating and trying to prove myself, it's time I take a stand and follow the parenting style that seems best to me even if no one else approves. My focus needs to be doing what I believe is best for you, not what I think others expect of me as your mother.
You are one of the sweetest, best-natured, affectionate, well-mannered little children that know. I am honored to be your mama and I want to live up to that honor.
I love you, sweetness.
Mama
Monday, October 1, 2012
10.01.12
Dearëst Zoë,
Yesterday was the big day. You're no longer a little girl of 3. You're now a big girl of 4. My heart is ripe with pride, love, and just a touch of regret as I watch you stride on without hesitation from one year to the next. I love you, my baby.
You woke up yesterday with the question "today is presents?" We sang you Happy Birthday and Daddy gave you the gift he bought for you, a little stuffed version of Sparky from Frankenweenie. After getting up, you insisted on watching the short Frankenweenie and then the whole Nightmare Before Christmas movie.
After that, it was time to jump in the car with mama and go and pick up your balloons. You were thrilled to see two tall columns of entirely purple balloons all for you and insisted on "helping" me get them out to the car.
When we got to the park, you were very happy to see that Granny was there with your birthday cake and presents. You played at the playground while your guests arrived and then we all went to the nature center for the animal presentation. You got to pet a stuffed otter, owl, and fox. The ranger brought out a live cane toad, snake and owl. You got to pet the snake which you did fearlessly. Your mama wasn't so brave.
We then trooped back to the shelter for cake and presents. You received some very nice things from people, including a guitar from your Poppy and Granny and a Tinkerbell doll baby with a stroller and bed from your Grandma and Grandpa. Ever since you unwrapped that doll, you've been carrying her around and pushing her in the stroller. You take the time to buckle her in safely every time. I'm so proud of your nurturing instincts. You're such a caring little one.
When your party was through, we had friends over and you changed into some of your new outfits to show off your fashion skills.
In the evening, we headed over to your great-grandma's place for a family birthday party and dinner. We celebrated great-grandma's, grandma's, cousin Denise and your birthdays all at the same time. You got lots of clothes which was not to your liking apparently. You did really enjoy the puzzles that Aunty Laura got you and you were so quick to put them together.
When we got home, we snuggled up on the couch and fell asleep watching The Avengers. It was a good, long day full of friend, cake, and fun. Happy Birthday, angel.
All my love,
Mama
Yesterday was the big day. You're no longer a little girl of 3. You're now a big girl of 4. My heart is ripe with pride, love, and just a touch of regret as I watch you stride on without hesitation from one year to the next. I love you, my baby.
You woke up yesterday with the question "today is presents?" We sang you Happy Birthday and Daddy gave you the gift he bought for you, a little stuffed version of Sparky from Frankenweenie. After getting up, you insisted on watching the short Frankenweenie and then the whole Nightmare Before Christmas movie.
After that, it was time to jump in the car with mama and go and pick up your balloons. You were thrilled to see two tall columns of entirely purple balloons all for you and insisted on "helping" me get them out to the car.
When we got to the park, you were very happy to see that Granny was there with your birthday cake and presents. You played at the playground while your guests arrived and then we all went to the nature center for the animal presentation. You got to pet a stuffed otter, owl, and fox. The ranger brought out a live cane toad, snake and owl. You got to pet the snake which you did fearlessly. Your mama wasn't so brave.
We then trooped back to the shelter for cake and presents. You received some very nice things from people, including a guitar from your Poppy and Granny and a Tinkerbell doll baby with a stroller and bed from your Grandma and Grandpa. Ever since you unwrapped that doll, you've been carrying her around and pushing her in the stroller. You take the time to buckle her in safely every time. I'm so proud of your nurturing instincts. You're such a caring little one.
When your party was through, we had friends over and you changed into some of your new outfits to show off your fashion skills.
In the evening, we headed over to your great-grandma's place for a family birthday party and dinner. We celebrated great-grandma's, grandma's, cousin Denise and your birthdays all at the same time. You got lots of clothes which was not to your liking apparently. You did really enjoy the puzzles that Aunty Laura got you and you were so quick to put them together.
When we got home, we snuggled up on the couch and fell asleep watching The Avengers. It was a good, long day full of friend, cake, and fun. Happy Birthday, angel.
All my love,
Mama
Monday, September 24, 2012
09.24.12
King Zoë,
After picking you up from school today, you stared out the window and announced "it's pretty out there".
Yes, Zoë, it IS pretty out there and I'm glad you can see that. I hope you never lose the ability to look out into the world and see just how beautiful it can be.
All my love,
Mama
Sunday, September 23, 2012
09.23.12
Dearëst Zoë,
I woke up under a rainbow this morning, one you created. You took the change out of my jean's pocket and arranged it in an arc on the bed. You called it a rainbow. I love your creativity, little one.
You wanted to call your Daddy who was out at the flea market so I put you on the phone and you insisted that he come home so we could go to the beach and catch fishies. We just bought minnow nets yesterday and you were more than eager to try them out so once Dad came home, out to the beach we trekked with our bundle of goods.
The fish catching was less than successful. They were only swimming around out in the deep water, but you still had great fun swinging the net around and nearly clobbering everyone within arm's reach.
We worked on your swimming. Your kicking is coming along really well. We just have to work on the choke hold you maintain around our necks before we can really call it swimming for real.
It was a simply beautiful afternoon and I'm glad we could share it together.
All my love,
Mama
I woke up under a rainbow this morning, one you created. You took the change out of my jean's pocket and arranged it in an arc on the bed. You called it a rainbow. I love your creativity, little one.
You wanted to call your Daddy who was out at the flea market so I put you on the phone and you insisted that he come home so we could go to the beach and catch fishies. We just bought minnow nets yesterday and you were more than eager to try them out so once Dad came home, out to the beach we trekked with our bundle of goods.
The fish catching was less than successful. They were only swimming around out in the deep water, but you still had great fun swinging the net around and nearly clobbering everyone within arm's reach.
We worked on your swimming. Your kicking is coming along really well. We just have to work on the choke hold you maintain around our necks before we can really call it swimming for real.
It was a simply beautiful afternoon and I'm glad we could share it together.
All my love,
Mama
Saturday, September 22, 2012
09.22.12
Dearëst Zoë,
A full year has rolled around again and we are on the verge of celebrating 4 wonderful years of Zoë on this earth. I don't know if every kid can be as awesome as you, but may I just say that it is a privilege and a joy to be your parent. Your silly habits and goofy antics keep me laughing more than I ever did in my life BZ (that's before Zoë).
You have just begun learning your A, B, C's and how to spell your name. Your Dad and I are very proud of this new accomplishment. The other day, you won an award in your pre-school for the awesome job you did drawing your shapes. Your teacher says you are as smart as a whip, but of course, we already knew that.
Your birthday party will be soon at McGough Nature Park. We are having a park ranger come out and give a talk about the cane toads. He will have one to pick up. I'm curious to see if you will or not because you can be kind of squeamish sometimes. The theme of your party is princesses because that's what you're in to. Every morning when it's time to get dressed, you cry if you have to wear shorts and keep telling us "I want to be a princess". You love dresses and skirts.
Today, we added two new members to our family; Momo-ji and Banana, two little finches. Momo-ji is named for Aunty Mo with the Indian honorific of -ji and Banana was because when I asked you what the bird's name should be, you said something I couldn't understand but sounded like Banana. You have been very interested in them all afternoon, but maybe a little too interested as you shook the cage a couple of times like it was a maraca in a cha-cha contest.
We received a postcard today from Kaunas in Lithuania. Kaunas is the second largest city in that country and dates back to the 1413.
A full year has rolled around again and we are on the verge of celebrating 4 wonderful years of Zoë on this earth. I don't know if every kid can be as awesome as you, but may I just say that it is a privilege and a joy to be your parent. Your silly habits and goofy antics keep me laughing more than I ever did in my life BZ (that's before Zoë).
You have just begun learning your A, B, C's and how to spell your name. Your Dad and I are very proud of this new accomplishment. The other day, you won an award in your pre-school for the awesome job you did drawing your shapes. Your teacher says you are as smart as a whip, but of course, we already knew that.
Your birthday party will be soon at McGough Nature Park. We are having a park ranger come out and give a talk about the cane toads. He will have one to pick up. I'm curious to see if you will or not because you can be kind of squeamish sometimes. The theme of your party is princesses because that's what you're in to. Every morning when it's time to get dressed, you cry if you have to wear shorts and keep telling us "I want to be a princess". You love dresses and skirts.
Today, we added two new members to our family; Momo-ji and Banana, two little finches. Momo-ji is named for Aunty Mo with the Indian honorific of -ji and Banana was because when I asked you what the bird's name should be, you said something I couldn't understand but sounded like Banana. You have been very interested in them all afternoon, but maybe a little too interested as you shook the cage a couple of times like it was a maraca in a cha-cha contest.
We received a postcard today from Kaunas in Lithuania. Kaunas is the second largest city in that country and dates back to the 1413.
It looks very pretty, doesn't it?
All my love,
Mama
Thursday, August 23, 2012
08.23.12
My baby girl,
I wrote a little blurb on fb the other day, but I thought you might like to know what your afternoon was like so I'm posting it here as well:
Another little post about one of our mundane moments:
Not really my typical letters to you, but I thought they might be interesting to you none-the-less.
I love you with all my heart,
Mama
I wrote a little blurb on fb the other day, but I thought you might like to know what your afternoon was like so I'm posting it here as well:
Went to the park in the early evening yesterday. Had Zoë calling for "Thunderbunny" through the woods, a main character of a book her daddy's been reading to her at night. She climbed up into my lap as I sat on a swing and her chest leaned into mine. I swung gently back and forth. She pressed her cheek against my cheek and her hair blew across my face and I just basked in the sun-baked sweetness of my little girl laughing and clinging to me tight as today does tomorrow. In that brief moment, I had no doubts about God, no doubts about life, no doubts at all, just joy. If there is a Heaven for me, it will be an afternoon just like yesterday.
Another little post about one of our mundane moments:
"go away mommy" she says as she literally pushes me back from her car seat. Her eyes are shadowed; her lips pulled thin on the razor's edge of a hissy-fit brewing deep in her tiny, full-moon belly.
I have the power to force it. I'm the adult here and I do outweigh her by (ahem) hundreds of pounds after all. I could steal a kiss or coerce her into a hug. I have an ingrained sense of entitle
ment. I carried her body in my body. I have taken care of her needs when she was incapable of doing even the basics. The authoritarian in me is eager to crush this little act of insubordination.
There's a moment of hesitation. I look again with my mama eyes instead of my inner potentate and see a little girl who has had a tough day. She's tired and doesn't feel well. Her playmates today refused to play with her. All. day. long. Now I don't know about anyone else, but I know that when I experience even the slightest hint of rejection, my self-esteem definitely falters, and she had a full day of exposure.
Despite her size and age, my daughter is still her own person. I make the decision to respect that and to respect her wishes. I tell her that mommy is hurt by her choice, but still loves her and I wish her a good night. I let go. I step back. I wave good-bye as the van pulls away.
I'll be thinking about this little episode long after she's forgotten it, but it is not her place to be my mood pick-me-up and I'm not going to force that role on her. Life is called a gift for many reasons, but one of them I believe is that even though her life may have come through her daddy and I, she doesn't owe me for that. It's a freebie.
What I want her to remember most of all is that she has the right to choose her actions in this life and when she gives her love, it will be freely, without coercion or coaxing. I'm here to guide her. I'll make sure she knows right from wrong and that she values compassion towards others, but I'm strong enough in my motherhood now that one tiny act of testing boundaries doesn't make me feel threatened that she's going to grow up into a conscienceless hooligan. I want her to have faith in herself and sometimes that means accepting her exactly as she is, even when it's less that I would hope for.
And when I get home tonight after work and I slip into the bedroom of a peacefully slumbering Zoë, I might just sneak in a tiny little peck on the cheek after all.
Not really my typical letters to you, but I thought they might be interesting to you none-the-less.
I love you with all my heart,
Mama
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