Conversations with a Three and a Half Year Old

Dear Olivia Marie,

You are awesome.

You are inquisitive and caring:

O: How was your day at work mommy?

M: Bad.

O: Oh no! Why was it bad mommy?

M: The kids.

O: What did they do?

M: A bunch of bad stuff.

O: Oh no mommy. I’m sorry you had a bad day. When we get to the beach, I’ll give you a hug and then you’ll be better.

(You were right.) 

You are funny and observant:

O: This living room is not very special.

M: Why?

O: There is nothing special in it.

M: Sure there is. We have our comfy couch, your dollhouse, and pictures of you and our family- there’s a lot of special things in here.

O: No, there is nothing sparkly, or shiny, or special. It isn’t special enough.

M: Well, what do we need to make it more special for you?

O: Glitter. 

And sometimes you are mean...but in an innocent way: 

O: Mommy, when I’m bigger and have a big butt, can I ride your bike?

O:  Daddy. I love you, but only a little bit. Not much.

D: Why do you not love me much?

O: Because you always go to the fire station.

M: Ouch. 

You somehow know which questions to ask in order to more fully understand what is being said. I find that to be unique in someone so young. 

Continue to ask questions, to insert your opinion into conversations instead of being quiet with your thoughts, and to care deeply about others. These are gifts provided to you. Use them for good in the world. I'll try to show you how. 

Love,

Mommy

The voice in the thunder

Dear Olivia Marie,

Tonight you were holding your baby doll Jillian standing at the back door, looking out at the backyard and sky. I overheard you talking to the doll saying “That’s how God talks to us. Through thunder and rain. It’s God talking to us.” So I asked you to repeat what you told Jillian. 

And the conversation went:

Olivia:  “God talks to us through thunder and rain and sometimes in the morning.”

Me: “Like in the sunrise?”

Olivia: “Yes.”

Me: “Well, what is God saying to you?”

Olivia: “God says “Hi there!” and then you did a little jump & said it again which you asked instructed your daddy to copy....which he, nor I, could do quite to your liking. I suppose you just have the power to interpret God’s movements better than we do. 

And isn’t that the case?

I try to over complicate everything dealing with the divine, looking for obvious signs of existence and begging for clues for my life’s purpose, but maybe I’m ignoring all the ways God is already speaking and moving.....in nature, in the daily routines of life, in a child’s perspective which seems simple but so profound at the same time.  

And in those things, maybe the message of “Hi there!” is all we really need. To know that we are not alone, that we are cared for and thought of.  The One who paints the morning sky and calms the storm is there waiting for us to say "Hi" back to him; waiting for us to recognize his presence in the expected, ordinary parts of life that we so often miss or take for granted because we are looking instead for the big moments. 

So, thank you, God, for the storms, for the sunrises, and for this child who adds such wonder to my life. 

Love,

Mommy

On happiness

Dear Olivia Marie,

Over the last few months, at least once a day but usually more, you’ll look at me and ask

“Are you happy, Mommy?”

Most of the time it’s in response to my giving you a mom-look because I’ve asked you to do something and you’ve not done it, but sometimes you just ask it. It sort of breaks my heart every time. I think you can sense my numbness in the day to day. Or maybe you are picking up on the constant inner dialogue in my mind that goes something like this: “Why are you living in a state of basic contentment when you should be looking around at your life shouting ‘Wow, am I lucky or what?!’ You have a fabulous husband, a smart, healthy, and adorable daughter, a secure job with co-workers who are friends, and a wonderful family who loves and supports you. What’s wrong with you that you spend your days hoping they pass quickly? What’s so bad about your life that you avoid fully living in it and instead try to find ways to distract yourself? You really have it too good to be anything other than thrilled.” And then the guilt sets in for feeling this way, which makes it even worse....it’s a vicious cycle really.

But lately I feel like mirrors are being held up, reflecting the truth in my life for what it is: I’m afraid. I’m afraid of failure, of rejection, of loss, of pain. Although I’ve spent most of my life living in that fear, I’m more afraid now of continuing to live that way.  

I’ve recently heard three authors’ interviews that have made my eyes fill with tears while my whole body tingles with the knowledge deep in my soul that what they are speaking is exactly what I need to hear. I’ve been reading their books like I’m inhaling this revelation about myself....even though it’s written and said by different people, it’s all the same info: it’s time to be brave enough to be fully alive; to be present enough to see the beauty in the ordinary; to be vulnerable enough to risk the joy.

That sounds sort of crazy....that I would avoid joy because it’s too scary.  

But being your mother is terrifying. It makes my relationship with your dad scarier because I need him more than ever. It makes my relationship with my mom scarier because I now realize how much she loves me and that’s a lot to accept.  It makes my relationship with you scariest of all because I can make or break your understanding of love and the foundation of your future relationships. Even though it’s frightening, it also makes everything more powerful and full of potential for greatness....if only I’ll allow it.

I feel I’ve been given a gift in these recent revelations. I’m going to make a conscious effort to be open and present, to fully accept moments of delight and be grateful for them instead of blocking them out of fear. It’s going to take work, but the result will be worthy of the effort.

Soon, I’m hoping that you won’t have ask “Are you happy, Mommy? Show me a big happy smile if you are happy.” 

Instead, I’m hoping that you’ll know I’m beyond that.....that I’m residing in the joy.

Love,

Mommy

Successful mothering

Dear Olivia Marie,

I am tired.

More than tired. I’m burned out.  

As I attempt to define for myself what “happiness” is and what constitutes “opportunity”, I am resigned to my current state of being and trying to figure out how to do this whole working-mother thing in some way that resembles success.

This morning was not successful. 

Although time blurs the edges, I think it's important to remember how each season of life really feels. (I hate the phrase "season of life".) This one feels exhausting.

When reading this, you will not remember what it was like back in 2017 when you were three years old and I dealt with the struggle of trying to get us both dressed and out of the house by 6:40 a.m. Monday-Friday.  

This morning, at 6:35 a.m., your butt was naked and sticking up in the air from your bed while you flat out refused to get dressed & brush your teeth and hair. This may embarrass you, depending on what age you are when you read this story. However, at this time, your butt is still tiny and cute. It is not very cute though when it is supposed to be covered in a full outfit and we are late.

I tried everything I could think of to motivate you with positive reinforcement. It didn’t work.

The following thoughts went through my head:

1) “Your butt is so tiny and cute.”

2) “I’m so glad I don’t have to breastfeed you anymore.”

3) “I’m so glad you are going to your Grana’s house tonight.”

4)”Get the eff dressed or I’m going to lose it.”

5) “Take a deep breath. Being a few minutes late isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

6) “I’m going to try yelling and see if that works.”

It didn’t work.  You just tilted your head to the side a bit, looked at me, and stayed naked.

We weren't late and you were eventually, forcefully, clothed, but I don’t like starting the day like that. 

Let’s just enjoy the weekend and try again on Monday.

Love,

Mommy

From Child-free by Choice to Hearing a Voice

Dear Olivia Marie,

Today you are 3 years old. You are really interested in stories and want to hear one every night, so here’s the story that explains how you came to be...When two people love each other, they....maybe not that part of the story.

Once upon a time, Mommy and Daddy decided to not ever have kids. There are several reasons why and all of them are valid. I won’t go into them here, but I do want you to remember that having a child should be a choice you make when the time is right. But I’ll love you and support you if you have one when the time is less than preferred. I’ll also buy you birth control (actually it might be free....I’ll have to check).  But I digress...

Mommy and Daddy knew that having a child would add so much more expense and hassle to our lives and decided to opt out. After all, people seem so happy once their children are grown and out of the house.....it made better sense to skip the years where the children live at home and just keep an empty nest.

But every once in a while your daddy would say “Having kids might not be so bad. It might actually be a little fun.”  And then I would respond in some form or fashion of “Nope.”

Then one day, at the Commodore Theatre, daddy once again made his case and had a reasonable argument against every reason I gave to not have kids. It was very frustrating because his points were correct and it was obvious that I was making a fear based decision and that’s really no way to live. We discussed how we may regret never having children, but would never regret having one once he/she arrived. 

So we got pregnant on the first try. And then that baby didn’t make it past the first trimester. Then nothing happened for a while. I lost the nervous excitement I originally had at the beginning of the process. We had time to think about all the great reasons we had to remain child-free and decided that we wouldn’t go through with the whole baby thing anymore.

And then the weirdest thing happened. This is going to sound crazy, but I promise it is true. 

I was in our home office (which now doubles as your playroom) working on a graduate school paper and had a mental block. I was unable to complete my work and I said out loud “Why can’t I get this done?!” and although I was completely alone, I heard a voice say “You’re missing it.” 

Two thoughts crossed my mind: 1) I’m missing what? 2)Who the (bleep) said that? “You’re missing it” the voice said again.....then I got a feeling in my chest- a tingling sensation. And in an instant, I knew I had to keep trying for a baby. It was as if the desire for motherhood was put in place by some supernatural force. It was weird. But it happened and I couldn’t ignore it.

Over the next few months, I tried to reason this experience away, but the truth is what it is and I couldn’t brush it off.

Months later, I dreamed that I took a positive pregnancy test. Then a few weeks later, in the spring of 2013, it happened for real. I poured your dad a beer and put the test stick beside it. We were afraid to get too excited because of the miscarriage the year before, but somehow I knew this was going to go differently. And sure enough on December 19, 2013, you arrived.

The love, pride, and joy we feel for you far outweigh the negative aspects of parenthood.

We are so glad you are here.

You, my friend, were divinely inspired.

Love, Mommy

Smile and say Hello....and absolutely nothing else.

Dear Olivia Marie,

Last weekend, you and I went to the Botanical Gardens because you wanted to play with the kitchen set in the World of Wonder area and I wanted to leave the house. It wasn’t warm, but it was warm enough to justify being outside with a toddler on a Sunday morning. I fully expected to have the whole place to ourselves- but surprisingly there were quite a few other moms and toddlers there.

Other mothers wearing the same legging/tunic/cardigan outfit combo that I wore; several other toddlers walking around wondering why the splash pad was dry and discovering other ways to enjoy the area. 

There we all were, giving each other a polite good morning grin & nod and then pretending we didn’t see each other for the rest of the time. After this same baseline exchange of pleasantries was observed for an hour or so, the thought struck me: Why are we pretending to ignore each other?

Are we afraid of judgment because we have our children outside on a chilly day?

Are we embarrassed that we are choosing to enjoy nature instead of packing ourselves and children into the newest trendy church that meets in a school?

Did we all assume the garden would be vacant, so we didn’t get all dolled up in preparation to socialize?

Can’t you see that we already have several things in common just by being in this exact place in this exact moment?

We are all living off of LuLaRoe and dry shampoo! That’s enough of a conversation starter to pass the time while our children play together. But wait....our children aren’t playing together. Perhaps they can sense the way we are keeping our distance from one another.  We are preventing ourselves from becoming friends AND blocking our children from important social interactions.

Don’t you know that we need each other!? Don’t you know that it takes a village!? Don’t you know that your worries for your child are the same as mine!? Don’t you realize that we have the opportunity to discuss mutual concerns and share unique excitements if only all we would more fully acknowledge one another!?

I tried to engage with one mother and child while we sat directly across from each other in swings, but it didn’t take.

You and I had a nice time together, eventually caught the tram, and went home.  But the questions from that morning are still in my mind and I'm sure there is a lesson in there somewhere for us both. 

I’m hoping that I can teach you to be inclusive and reach out to others when the chances are given to you...but that’s so far out of my comfort zone that I probably won’t practice what I preach. Maybe I can teach you something else instead. 

Love,  

Mommy

Just a lovely fall walk.....

Dear Olivia Marie,

We took a walk this evening. You wanted to play in the backyard and not take a walk, so the compromise was that you could walk beside me pushing your baby in the toy stroller while I pushed your car in case you wanted to ride if you got tired of walking. Some compromises are worth making. This one...not so much.

You stopped walking every few feet,

To adjust the baby doll.... I reminded myself that the point of the walk is to get out of the house and enjoy the evening (turns out that it’s not an enjoyable evening......it’s still hot, humid, and there are mosquitoes.)

To put the baby doll in the car..... I reminded myself that the walk is about the journey and not the destination.

To pick up a stick.....I reminded myself that you are still young enough to find joy in things like sticks in the street and that I should savor every moment because you are growing up quickly.

To look at a crack in the cement.......I reminded myself that there are lessons I could learn as an adult from watching your innocence and wonder in the small details that I don’t even notice anymore.

To look at the Halloween decor a neighbor put out (way too early, btw)....I reminded myself that I am thankful to live in a safe, nice area where we can take a worry-free walk around the block.

To strap the baby doll in.....I reminded myself that this slow a*$ walk is still more exercise than sitting and watching tv.

To count the pumpkins on the neighbor’s porch.....I reminded myself that deep breaths can help calm my mind when I feel anxiety starting to creep up.

To literally stop and smell the flowers.....I reminded myself that this walk is not going to burn any calories and I really want a glass of wine when you go to bed.

To get in the car and then out of the car.....I reminded myself that losing my mind is not a helpful experience for you, myself, or the people sitting on the porch across the street.

To....oh no, I lost it. Now you are crying and I feel bad. Maybe pointing out the airplane or the squirrel will distract you from lamenting your fortune of having me as a mother. When we get home I’ll make those frozen chicken nuggets again and continue this thing called motherhood like a real champ.

I’ll do better tomorrow.....fingers crossed.

Love,

Mommy