DRY Ink

Em,

This is so long over due it’s ridiculous, but I’ve committed to birthday letters and you will get one for your 6th birthday, damn it. Even if it is closer to your 18th, then 6th. Almost. Anyway, you deserve a birthday letter, and I would really be sad if I didn’t take the time to tell you how special you are and how you make me laugh. So let’s get on with it.

Happy 6th birthday. I know it wasn’t much, what with the lack of friends, or cake, or food, or lights, but hey you got a bike. A new bike that your father stood in line two towns away for over three hours to get for you! (Gustav was fun. At least I hope you remember it that way. My new therapist assures me you will.) A new bike that you ride to school on every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. All the way to school, so slowly that I occasionally stop along the way to kill myself, and then catch back up and kiss you good bye on the play ground. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. We have good times together.

You seem incapable of keeping your room clean at this point. I’m not sure if it’s some type of developmental disability or the first signs of rebellion, but it’s usually about 3 feet deep in there. This never seems to bother you. You navigate the mess like a mountain climber. If it wasn’t so damned annoying I’d be impressed. I recently took your TV away until the room was clean, but once it was finally clean, you didn’t want it back. Your room is now the only bedroom in the house with out a TV, and it’s your choice. Not that you watch any less TV, you just do it in my room on the 32 inch. Sometimes I wonder who is working who around here.

You now have lots of friends. Not that you ever had a shortage, but now the phone calls and nights spent out and friends over has started. It’s always entertaining to have little girls around. It’s a big statement for Nature over Nurture debate. You girls act like catty college co-eds, even at 5, 6 and 7, so I’m guessing there’s not a strong argument for environment around here.

You continue to struggle with conduct. You get X’s everyday for talking. Every parent/teacher conference is the same thing; “she brilliant, she just needs to stop talking”. Your 1st grade teacher is great. She calls you LuLu and tells you to hush up. She makes me laugh at how she really seems to get you, and you absolutely adore her. I think Ms. Creighton is one you will always remember.

So that’s pretty much your life, being beautiful, friends, TV and an occasional book. While your not as obsessed with reading like Jack or I, you certainly put your time in with books. I love to see that. Your reading skills are developing so quickly right now that’s it’s more like an explosion. But you still tell me you can’t read and want to be read to at night. Some things never change and I hope they don’t. Ever.

Thanks for being my little girl. I love you.

Hugs and Kisses,
Mom

It has suddenly come to my attention that Em did not get a birthday letter due to a certain hurricane ripping through our little patch of the world. This is not the first birthday she has lost. Katrina came to play only days before her 3rd birthday. This got me thinking of a lovely little incident that occurred while bringing her into this big bad world.

As I had only presented myself ready to deliver her brother 15 months earlier, I was well know around a certain maternity ward when I showed up ready to evict her. There was also a certain serial killer running around killing women around here at that time. It seems the powers that be decided to have a press conference releasing vital, recently gleamed information on said serial killer that same day. Being the great person I am, I volunteered my room for all the labor and delivery nurses to watch the conference. So at noon, everyone gathered in my room while I leaned over the bed and panted for dear life, and Jeff rubbed my back. At this press conference we learned we were to be on the look out for a white male in a white pick up truck. They all thanked me profusely and made really sad faces as they left the room at 12:45 pm. Emie was born at 3:09 pm. 6 months later we would learn that the killer was an African American who did not even own a white truck.

All this is to tell you to lock your doors and stay inside around September 3rd, and I owe Em a birthday letter.

Dear Jack
Much like every other damn thing in my life right now, I’m late on your birthday letter. Yesterday you turned 7. Holy smokes, that was fast. I can hardly believe you will be baptized next year and therefore finally accountable. I’m looking forward to that long awaited nap, or eating bonbons all day. Hey it’s all on your head then.

So you’ve conquered first grade this year, on the honor roll. You’ve developed a love of soccer, and you continue to play baseball, coaches pitch this year. You have further developed into a pretty scrawny little cherub at roughly four foot tall and 45 pounds.

You are currently into wearing one black sock and one white sock under your skateboarding shoes. Why I have no idea and you have yet to sufficiently explain it to me. I guess it’s just one of those mysteries we may never understand. You also participate in the annoying habit of not wearing shorts that don’t cover your knees. What ever, it’s not like we live in south Louisiana or anything. Oh wait. In addition you are a play station II junkie, you would prefer to play over any other activity, accept maybe swimming. There must also be daily swimming or heads will roll I tell you.

You’ve adjusted quite well to Jacob returning home, sometimes it feels like he never really left and the whole last year and half didn’t happened. Only my bruised heart tells me different. I have to say you are part of the reason I made it through all that. Without you I would have been lost. Jack, you are such a sensitive and amazing child. Nobody gets what’s going on like you. Some times I worry about you because of that. Everyone needs time to just be a cherub. I try to make sure you get to, but you just might be too much like your father. Both of you have the ability to feel empathy for others like nothing I’ve ever seen. That’s a great quality to have. You’re going to make a fantastic husband some day, if your father is any indication. Just try to remember to put yourself first sometimes too okay?

Jack, I know I always wrap these letters up the same way; telling you how much I love you and how much having you in my life means to me. This year, I’m going to tell you how much everyone loves you, how much you mean to everyone. I am starting to realize, the older you get the more I have to share you. You make an impression on everybody you meet. Your excitement for life and caring for others coupled with your intelligence makes you pretty unforgettable. Everyone tells me so. Don’t ever loose that. I’m going to do my part to make sure you never do, but I’m gonna need a little of your help okay?

I love you so very much Jack,
mom

Well sports fans it’s that time again. Yep, Jacob turns 17 today and I have to say this is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Almost up there with actually, physically letting him go.

Jacob,

Happy birthday! I can hardly believe you’re 17. I’m so glad they don’t let people have babies at 4, like I did, anymore. Dude, that’s just wrong.

I’m so excited for you this birthday, because today is the day you will finally get a driver’s license and get to drive your truck. All legal and all. That’s cool. That should open up a world of possibilities for you. I thought I would never see this day, that we would never get your seizures under control. But here we are. Go you.

This has been a crazy year. (In case you weren’t paying attention.) This is the year I learned that I have to let you go. Not just let you move out because you and your father are being an ass, but actually let you go, and learn to fly on your own. Let you start to make mistakes and learn from them. On. Your. Own. Needless to say, I’ve been incredible crappy at this thus far. The words: monumental failure may even come to mind. But some how, I’m actually learning to do this and guess what? You’re pretty good at this on your own stuff. I guess you could say that I owe you an apology for underestimating you. (So okay, I’m sorry.) You have managed to become quite found of a pretty nice girl, work all summer, save up enough money to buy a truck, and even purchase some lawn care equipment and start your own business. Maybe I should have shown you the door at 10, who knows, you might rule the world by now. Just joking. Sorta.

I know I held on way too tight for way too long. I’m not sure why I couldn’t recognize that you are the sort of kid who just needs to experience things on your own, your own way. I was that kind of kid, and I still am, but I guess I just wanted to save you from some of my mistakes. In that quest, I lost track of what was important: you. I just got so caught up in giving you the best life you could possible have, I forgot that you don’t actually belong to me, and that my idea of the best life might not actually be your idea. Don’t get me wrong, I still think I’m right, and that you will eventually see that, I just now understand better that you have to find out I’m right in your own time and own way. Sure you may fall down along the way, but that’s part of the learning experience and in the end, you are smart enough to make it through just fine, no matter where it is you decide you’re headed.

Jacob, I truly hope one day you’ll come to understand what took me way too long to learn; that God only lends us children, and that from the day that they are born, the process of letting go begins. It’s our job as parents to figure out how to balance all that; teaching them what they need to know and then letting them experience things for themselves. It’s a lot of balls in the air. It is not easy, but boy is it worth it. Some how wanting to save you turn into a struggle for control. I couldn’t see that at the time that I had cross the line and lost sight of the big picture.

You are one of the neatest people I know. You have an amazing view of the world and the best sense of humor. Like earlier this week when I walked out into the front yard, and you just came running up outta nowhere and tackled me. Who does that? I couldn’t stop laughing. But then when Jack and Em piled on, you helped me up and told them, ‘okay, that’s enough.’ You tackled me and saved me all in about 30 seconds.

I’m proud of the person you are growing up to be. I’m sorry I couldn’t see the big picture for awhile there. I see it now. I look forward to you figuring out the person you will eventually be and Jacob, I miss you so very much.

Love,

Mom

Em,

You are 5 today. Five! Holy Smokes how’d this happen. I am still barely recovering from you starting Kindergarten! Are you trying to kill me?

Currently, you love Dora, school, Barbie and never. shut. up. Ever. Even now as I am trying to type this you are grilling me about when you will be 16 and how old am I, and when will I be 24. The answer is never, I will always be 21, why do I have to keep explaining this? Damn it, this was never an issue before I sent you off to be educated. Stupid school system, I should have known better.

Today we had a family BBQ and then a few friends over to Mom’s house to swim. As always you were personable, appreciative of all your presents and the life of the party. After opening presents you exclaimed, “I’m toy rich!” and earlier tonight you held up two cans of play-doh and exclaimed, “2 different colors of pink! Boy does Aunt Lori know me!” You have a way of viewing the world that makes it a pleasure to experience life with you.

As 5 has descended upon you, you have remained a champion snuggler. No one gives hugs like you. Sometimes it can be over whelming, the way you can wind yourself around me, like a boa constrictor. But there is nothing like a hug from you when things are going wrong. It’s better than a 20 oz. Diet Dr. Pepper. Promise.

You have also managed to set another record around DRY Ink. Last week you got 6 points off in conduct, on 2 consecutive days! Jax has never gotten more than 2 points off in one day. I hear your teacher had to threaten to send you to the principal’s office to get you to stop talking to your neighbors. The teacher finally moved your table and things seem to have settled down. I was beginning think you would be the first Kindergarten juvenile delinquent. Now that would have been something to write about!

Here’s the part I always get all mushy. I’ll try to keep it down, as I need to go beat you to get you to stop talking and GO TO BED ALREADY, after all you have school in the morning. So let’s get on with it. I love you. I love you with a purple polka dotted passion. I love the way you giggle, and light up a room. I love that you genuinely care about other people’s feelings and want to make people happy. I am a better person for being your mother, even if you were an accident a surprise. I guess we know why now.

Love,

Mom