Call Her Beautiful.

Last night I snuck into her bedroom. Tip toed, hoping she wouldn’t wake from the noise, from the light.

I leaned over her crib and gazed at her sleeping body. Carefully placed my hand delicately on her back. Watched her breathe. My daughter.  I whispered promises.

Sneaking back to my bedroom with salty mascara stained tears at my cheeks I stared at the empty wine glass, the clicking cursor in the email. My relationship with my mother is _____.

It’s a sucker punch. Air knocked out. A gasp.

Yesterday, my mother wrote me to tell me how unhelpful I am and how I don’t have any real friends because I can’t open up my heart.

She cut, for the sake of the bleed.

There are words that spilled over the page like cabernet shattered; staining, creeping across the crevices as tears poured out of me and onto four pages. Promptly deleted. I don’t want this to be our story. I am done with our story.

It is now about her. Her tendrils of fine blonde hair that curl at her neck.

It is about her brilliant blue eyes that if tear stained won’t ever be at my negligence.

Her childhood will not be filled with memories of meals denied for the sake of her appearance. She will be beautiful regardless of her appetite.

She won’t be called stupid, or a moron, or a retard or any other synonym for the same sentiment. She won’t be criticized and ridiculed. I won’t defend or excuse or accept blame for someone else’s vileness.

She is gorgeous, this daughter of mine. Affectionate. Stubborn. Adventurous. Silly girl.

She has so many to watch her, to look over her, to love her. Her brother. Her sensitive, kind, loving brother who hugged me last night as I cried and told me he would never be mean to his children.

Yes, I think she will be okay.

These whispered promises of mine that I keep in my heart. Sewn up and sealed with tears. With love. With sadness. With wishes from the damaged and dreams from the hopeful. You will call her beautiful, and she will believe it.

She won’t survive, she’ll thrive.

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All of these photos are from instagram. You should follow me: motus8

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A continuation from my post: Call Me Beautiful.

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Just written for a wordful wednesday where I poured my heart out and spoke for her.

From the Beginning.

It started in 1985. In Poland.

But what if it hadn’t?

What if it was elsewhere?

We fled communism for Munich and awaited our visas to Australia. What if we got them?

In 1989 we moved to Chicago, but if we didn’t?

Evanston found us in 1993; friendships still over a decade strong were forged. Tearstained pillow cases established their home in the middle school years. What if we had never arrived?

1998. Mexico. An incident occurred that would forever change every aspect of how I perceived the world and myself. Who would I be if we had gone to the Bahamas instead?

In 2003 I chose the University of Minnesota over my first choice of Fordham University in NYC for love. If I had gone to New York I would not  have met and married my husband.

6 years ago in 2006 I graduated early and started my job at the Museum. I was going to go to Law School, what if I had?

Had a misstep been taken.  A different plane boarded. Why the possibilities are limitless. Of who I would be, of who you would be. Of how we would cross. Grain against grain. Smoothed to glass or swept to sea.

Each of these moments strung together, seemingly meaningless infinite strands of chance encounters braided, entwine us. Hold us close. The edges may fray. You may tug and pull and attempt to unravel. But once bound we have forever made an impression. Whether fate or chance unknown.

I have known you and you me.

Our paths may change, the stream will flow into the river into the ocean, the current carrying us apart. But you two have made your way into the world, born by me, by chance, by fate, by divine power. With me forever.

And when I asked of you to hold a hand and you held his, I knew that you will have your own path. That you will travel. Together. Alone. Without me.

We will each make our own way through the crevices and mountain tops. Traverses narrow and deep holding our dreams in sweaty palms.

Clinging to hopes, wishes unwished, loves unloved.

I don’t know what I believe in, but I believe in you.

For as long as we are together, let’s make it better.

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This post came to be because she read a cartoon and tweeted it. And she read that tweet and blogged it. And I read that blog post and felt it. 

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I have also used this as a contest entry for a full sponsorship to the Type-A Parent Conference from Brica. Brica’s Motto is ‘Making Together Better’ and you can find Brica on both Facebook and Twitter.

Stay.

It’s been a roller coaster ride already. Only a few months into this New Year. Feels so old, so yesterday’s news. Each passing day like the one before. Moments, glimmers of beauty and love flashing by us as we rise and sleep and rise again.

Today I woke up blessedly happy. With a radiance that illuminated like an orb guiding me through the morning motions. Could feel its swell inside me, this happy. I don’t want it to leave. Willing it with my mind. Filled to the brim. Don’t deplete me again. Pleading and begging to an otherworldly entity to have pity, to take my penance and let me stay in this state of bliss.

I think of Casey’s post yesterday. How happy I am at her happy. How letting her words glide over and through me gave me hope that I can be as lucky. She made it. They made it. I can make it through these swallows that take me prisoner. When I lose sight of the now so caught up in the then. When I am without words.

This weekend had record heat for a Minnesota March and allowed me to bask in the sunshine and joy of these adorable faces. It pains me that I can be filled with so much sadness and emptiness when surrounded by their boundless energy.

But I won’t dwell on the then. I will rejoice in the now.

And in the back of my heart and mind plead for it to stay.

Linked with Shell’s Pour Your Heart Out

To My Son on His Fifth Birthday

Dear Bear,
How is it possibly that five years have flown by? When did you grow to be less of a little child and more a friend? Even at five I value your advice as deeply as those given by many much older than you. In fact often yours is more wise. For you do not understand the unfortunate dynamics of grown up life, but see life simply as it ought to be viewed. And I thank you. I thank you for being this wonderful little boy, who will grow up to be the best man.

I do not pat myself on the back as a job well done. Instead I acknowledge that this is simply your nature, a gift from the heavens to have a son that delights me every day. Sure, sometimes you rattled on and I must confess I tune you out or even wish you would be silent for just a moment. But it is your excitement. Your abounding joy, that makes you so special.

You see life as a gift and every moment as an opportunity. But more than that you love and feel so deeply. More than any child I have ever known. You love like I love. With every ounce of your blood and if that is the only thing you have learned from me, then I will pat myself on the back.

Your relationship with your little sister is one that constantly astonishes me. Being an only child, it is a bond I don’t readily understand. But you love her and care for her in a way that I wouldn’t have expected from a small child. It’s the unrequested hugs and kisses you give each other. The fact that you play with her without being asked. That you look out for her.

My heart melted when you fed her dinner because I was too sick to do so. Carefully placing each strawberry in her mouth and waiting until she finished before giving another. Your sense of responsibility when you say things to me like, “I’m going to the basement, you watch Bella now” is appreciated and surprising.

This past year has seen so much excitement. Your first time to Wisconsin Dells were you braved every water slide you were tall enough for. A whole summer of sports and activities. Your first hair cut.

Your current loves remain Bakugans and Scooby Doo. In fact you were Scooby Doo this past Halloween. You seem to devour every show on Cartoon Network, and still love to watch movies picking through a constantly growing collection. You no longer have a favorite movie that you watch repeatability like you once did.

You still seem to side with your dad as an advocate against vegetables and trying new foods, something that distresses me greatly. Trust me, as someone who married a person like that you don’t want to do that to your future spouse! Your favorite foods seem to be pizza and any sort of candy. You and your sister both seem to have the same sweet tooth as your dad. Speaking of teeth you lost your very first tooth days shy of your 5th birthday.

You have many friends and love them dearly. You speak of each of them often regaling us with stories of games you played. Sometimes, it pains me to hear, one of your friends isn’t particularly nice. Which hurts you as deeply as it hurts me. You look up at me and ask why would he do that, and sadly I have no answer to give you. A lesson I wish you weren’t already learning.

We had our first trip to Disney World this year, and you had no fear. Braving Splash Mountain again and again. You even went on the Tower of Terror twice which was something I even struggled to consider doing at all.

I love you so much and I hope you have the best birthday today and I’m excited for the big year ahead. You’ve already begun learning your sight words and are improving your handwriting. Now if only you just didn’t make your letters so big. Your very first day of kindergarten seems to be approaching at a rapid pace and I can’t wait for all the new adventures.

With all of my love,

Mommy

Easy #Valentine’s Day

I’m the first to admit I’m not remotely crafty. I’m also pretty lazy. I have however great ideas and desires, just not the skills. Sound impressive so far? Well, I’m pretty damn proud of what a nice Valentine’s day I made for my kids. It was “crafty” but it was also easy.

Step 1: Order Presents on amazon and get candy at Target.

Step 2: Order Valentine’s Day cards on Shutterfly. (I also prewrite the messages so all I have to do is put it in an envelope when they arrive)

Step 3: Breakfast inspired by pinterest

• I made chocolate stuffed raspberries (just insert chocolate chip into raspberry)
• Toast cut into heart shape (with a knife as I’m not crafty enough to have a cookie cutter)
• Somewhat complicated heart shaped eggs. It looked easy enough on pinterest but when I googled the video it was much more involved than intended. But I figured if GroverGrove could do it so could I. I, like Grover, didn’t remotely use the intended materials. I used pieces of recycling, hair ties, and pencils. Plus I really like that GroverGrove ended it with “That’s how you do it mutha fuckas” so I needed to make him proud.

Step 4: Make cupcakes (from a box. Preferably the Valentine’s Day kind)

Step 5: Lunch: Heart Shaped Pizza from Papa Murphys

Step 6: Dinner: Heart shaped meatballs and spaghetti. These were the best meatballs I’ve ever made. They were so delicious and EASY.

Heart Meatballs
1 egg beaten
½ Cup Spaghetti sauce
¼ Cup bread crumbs, seasoned
½ teaspoon Italian seasoning
1 ½ lbs. Ground beef
1½ Cup shredded mozzarella cheese
Combine all ingredients together in a large bowl. With your hands shape meat into a heart. These will be much bigger than average size meatballs. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 20-25 minutes until done in the middle.

Step 7: Cupid Cake: aka angel food cake (from a box) tinted pink with red food dye.

Step 8: Wrap presents

Step 9: Heart Shaped Balloons from Party Store

Step 10: Get and give lots of LOVE

Hope everyone had a very Happy Valentine’s Day!