Times Two

Dear Nathalie,

This letter is two-fold.

First:

STOP GROWING!!!

Look at you.  Who do you think you are???  This was this morning before leaving for daycare.  You picked out your own outfit and wanted to wear black shoes to match your "blue-ish/black-ish dress."  You started to go for argyle kneehighs....but thankfully changed your mind.  I can't believe how much you are changing literally EVERY DAY.  I'm not an overly emotional mommy, but I just know that my heart will break the day you start kindergarten.  Anyway, I guess I can't stop it from happening, so I'll be grateful for the fact that you are turning into a pretty cool kid.  Even though you have a bit of an attitude sometimes, you're turning out to be alright.  I'm incredibly impressed. 

Secondly:

We are certain you will open your own breakfast restaurant someday.  Every morning, some of the first words out of your mouth are:  My tummy is rumbly.  Can I have breakfast?  Who's going to get me breakfast?  I don't know what I should have for breakfast. 

It's really quite amuzing.  This picture was taken the morning I told you to go wait for me in the living room until I used the restroom and brushed my teeth.  When I came out of my room, I found you sitting at the table, plate and cup ready to go!  You crack me up, kiddo.  Breakfast is your favorite meal of the day.  I think it's awesome.  Slightly annoying.  But awesome.  

You've been awfully clingy lately.  Not sure why.  A lot of the guilt trip stuff:  Mommy, can you stay home with me all the time?  Mommy, I wish you could always be here with me.

I hate to go over this again, but someday you will understand why mommy has to work.  I would stay home with you if I could.  In a hot minute.  But for now, I can't.  You'll be fine, dear Nathalie.  Lot's of kids are daycare kids.  And you....are.....AWESOME.

Love,
Mom

Trouble at Daycare

Dear Nathalie,

It seems we've entered a "bratty" stage. 

Knock.  That.  Shit.  Off.

Your counselor "Smiley" shared with me that you screamed at a little boy TWICE today.  And he did NOTHING wrong.  Not to mention your attitude-laden comment to me yesterday, "you know, mommy, you really should clean your car," and your refusal to be wrong about ANYTHING.  "Well, actually, it's chocolate milk."

No.  Not my kid.  Tina Fey (she's a comedienne/actress that is popular right now) wrote a book called Bossypants.  In it, she includes a Mother's Prayer for her Daughter....I'm going to share it with you here, mostly because I need to be reminded of it myself today, but also so that you can have it to reference when YOU become a mom...

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered,
May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half
And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the nearby subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock N’ Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes
And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. 
Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long,
For Childhood is short — a Tiger Flower blooming
Magenta for one day –
And Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever,
That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers
And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister,
Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,
For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,
That I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 a.m., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck.
“My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental note to call me. And she will forget.
But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen.

Know that I love you, but I swear to God, dear Nathalie......you will NOT be a brat.


Love, Mom

Tough Chick!

Dear Nathalie,

Today you wanted to ride your bike.  No problem.  We strapped on your helmet and we were out the door.  You are getting MUCH better at pedaling and keeping your eyes ahead.  Moving around the cars without getting into the middle of the street, also becoming a strength. 

Here's what we need to work on:

-You will very rarely find yourself going too fast UPHILL.  It is not necessary to brake every five seconds because you "went to fast, mommy."

-You cannot get mad at the neighbors when they don't respond to your tiny little bike bell.  They are in their cars. With the windows rolled up.

-Downhill is the FUN of bike riding....let loose!  FLY down the street....it's thrilling.  I promise.

-When mommy says, "Keep pedaling, keep pedaling, KEEP PEDALING!", it's probably because you don't have enough speed to stay upright on that incline and you will most likely fall over.  Which you did.  And I laughed.

To your credit, you cried a bit, but not even a real cry.  You jumped right back on that bike and pedaled up that hill.  I was so proud.  Had that been ME....well....I would've cried.  Real tears.  And you can bet your sweet, round, fat cheeks that I wouldn't have been back on that bike for at least a day.  You're a tough chick, dear Nathalie.  Keep it up.

Love,
Mom

Back to School Shopping

Dear Nathalie,

Well, after a tough week last week, we're sort of back to our day to day routine.  Yesterday was pretty exciting though....we started Back to School shopping!!!

You start kindergarten in a MONTH.  Wow.  What a big girl you are already.  It was really fun taking you to Target and picking out school supplies.  It's a pretty small list for kindergarten, but you were still very into it.  We picked out your crayons, pencils, erasers....all the good stuff.

Today, after work, I stopped into a few "little kid's stores," as you like to call them, and picked out a few tshirts and a dress....possibly for picture day.  :)  So cute.  So exciting.

Mommy's first day of school feels like yesterday.  I wore a pink and white dress that MY Grandma made for me.  I'm pretty sure I had knee socks on.  I LOVED kindergarten.  Actually, I loved school most of the time.  I'm so excited for you, dear Nathalie, to start this new adventure.....

Love,
Mom

Toy Story Free

Dear Nathalie,

So....you still have trouble making the "th" sound.  I may have added a complication to this particular combination of letters by spelling your name the way I did.  Blame it on the french in me.  It's something you're going to have to deal with your whole life....people mispronouncing your name.  Mommy had to deal with that with her last name...still dealing with it.  Anyway.....

You are, at present, watching Toy Story 3 for the...oh, I don't know.....100th time.  Mommy can't watch it with you....I cry every time.  There are two scenes in particular that get me.  Of course, the moment when the toys all hold hands and resign themselves to a fiery death.....such brave little guys.  The real tear-jerker though....the moment Andy's mom walks into his empty room and realizes her little boy is all grown up and moving away.

I think that is a moment every parent fears.  I can't spend too much time thinking about when YOU'RE going to be all grown up and move away, but I remember the look on your grandma's face when I left home for the first time.  It was a look that was just a jumbled up mess of emotion.  Was she sad that I was leaving her....was she scared that I wouldn't be ok on my own......was she proud of me for growing up to be such a strong, secure young woman????  I'm pretty sure it was all of that.

The constant struggle with parenting is the balance between wanting to protect your children from everything bad in the world and wanting them to grow up and be their own person.  What is that old saying about roots and wings? 

Luckily, you're only five.  I have another thirteen years to worry about the day I have to let you go off and be an adult.  Until then, dear Nathalie, I will enjoy every moment you ask for Toy Story Free and we will celebrate your birthday on February Fird. 

Love,
Mom

Grandpapa

Dear Nathalie,

Your Grandpapa passed away today.  You asked to go to daycare today because it was water play day.  Your favorite.  I wish you were home with me though.  I'd go pick you up, but I can't stop crying long enough for it to be safe.

You loved your Grandpapa....he loved you too.  When you were very little, he used to refer to you as "the little fella."  When you turned one, he had a shirt made for you that read:  I'm not a fella, I'm a girl!  We all got a kick out of it.

He was so excited to pick out presents for you....dresses, toys to go with your play kitchen.  He used to ask your Grandma if she'd go with him to pick out outfits.  Before we all moved away (us and your auntie and cousins) Grandpapa would buy all you girls matching easter dresses.  He loved it.

What was so great about your Grandpapa, my Pepere, was the stories he would tell.  He was such a happy man that loved to share so many fun memories of his life back east, his time in the service, and stories of life with Memere....you never got to meet her, but she was a great lady.

I knew this day was coming.....Grandpapa was getting so tired, so frustrated with the aging process.  You could see the irritation in is face when he was struggling for a memory.  He missed his wife so much and now, they're together again.  It doesn't make it easier to say goodbye.

You've had to see mommy deal with a lot of loss already in your short little life.  Grandma, Grandpa Healy...and now Grandpapa.....and I know at your age it is nearly impossible for you, dear Nathalie, to even begin to understand death.....but memories are strong, and the people we love and lose will always be with us in our hearts.

Love,
Mom

Robot Dreams

Dear Nathalie,

Tonight, while saying goodnight to everyone, Ron told you to be sure to have sweet dreams.

Ron:  Dream of sweet things like ladybugs.
Nathalie:  And castles.
Ron:  And flowers.
Nathalie:  And unicorns.
Ron:  And glitter.
Nathalie:  And ROBOTS.

Then....the dance......

Thanks for the laughs tonight.  You're the best.

Love,

Mom

Crazy Day

Dear Nathalie,

It's "Crazy Day" at your daycare today.  We got you all decked out with three ponytails and mismatched socks and shoes.  Why does this warrant a letter?  Because of the way you asked if I'd take your picture.

Nathalie:  Mommy, can we take fashion pictures?
Mommy:  uhhhh, yeah, we can take pictures.
Nathalie:  Okay, I want to do three fashion pictures.

Here's what happened next:
Fashion Picture # 1

Fashion Picture #2

Fashion Picture #3

WTF are you watching on tv?  Is Wow Wow Wubbzy something I need to pay closer attention to??  Mickey Mouse Clubhouse features America's Next Top Model?  You are a silly, silly little girl, dear Nathalie.

Love,
Mom

Eight

Dear Nathalie,
Tonight you told me you want a bigger family.  You said you want eight people in your family.  That means three more babies.
No.
Love,
Mom

Dreams of Paris

Dear Nathalie,

Every month I wipe down the white board calendar and fill in a new month. You're usually there with me and you always ask if there are any birthdays and what holidays are coming up.  Well, July is a busy month!  There are tons of holidays and birthdays.  Your grandpa has his birthday on the 3rd.  Then there's Independence Day.  And of course, Bastille Day.  When I drew the French flag and a loose interpretation of the Eiffel Tower, you knew right away that it was a holiday that had something to do with France...so SMART. Here is how our conversation went:

Nathalie:  Mommy, are we ever going to see Paris?
Mommy:  Yes, of course.  Someday mommy will take you to see Paris.
Nathalie:  We can meet a lot of french people there.
Mommy:  Yes, I'm sure we will.
Nathalie:  French people speak french.  It's also called France.

Very nice, Captain Obvious. 

All joking aside,  when you were first born, and mommy was certain she'd be a single mom a lot longer than she has turned out to be, I made a promise to you that I would take you to Paris the summer before you started kindergarten.  That would have been this summer. 

Plans change and life swings different things at you.  When you were two days old I had no idea that 6 months or so later I would meet an amazing man that would end up being such an important and strong part of my life.  I had no idea then that I would be relocating us to Southern California and starting a new chapter in our lives.  I like what we have going here, though.  Life is good and mommy is happier than she's been in a long time.

I will still bring you to Paris, dear Nathalie.  I will take you to the top of the Eiffel Tower and show you the city from the steps in front of the Sacre Coeur.  We will sample sweets from patisseries and eat baguettes while relaxing along the Seine.  We will climb the steps of the Arc de Triomphe and gaze at the Champs Elysees.

Someday.

Love,
Mom