Tuesday, January 13, 2015

this little light of mine.


dear lils,

sunday morning we woke to a gloriously dribbly day. an enchanting, thick blanket of gray moisture wrapped the skies. the surrounding green hues of the land further saturated and began to contrast vibrantly from the dull winter undertones that even southern california can't entirely escape. rain pattered the rooftops as we spent the majority of the morning in pajamas, eating crepes prepared by daddy, and enjoying a special visit from nonna and poppa-don. it was a certain nine year-old's birthday. the child who made a mother outta me.


taaaa daaaaaa! 9 years-old! 

this is ccccccray.



what a kid, you are.

what. a. kid.





you asked for a red camera for your birthday. you have taken approximately five million photos since. you said you wanted to get lots of shots of sunsets and tree branches.

 it reminded me of this christmas. it was late, late christmas eve. dad, myself, uncle forrest, uncle ian, auntie mal, auntie riss, uncle chris, and auntie sarah surveyed the santa spread blanketing the living room. uncle forrest remarked with a laugh that even though he didn't do any of the purchasing, it was impossible to mistake lily's section for any of the other kid's. your three sisters basically had a large smorgasbord of indistinguishable fluff and pink, Frozen paraphernalia, and baby dolls. but your corner? it included a robot, an art portfolio for designing clothes, a scientific tornado-making machine, and a glow-in-the-dark tetherball. all specifically requested in your letter.


now, armed with your own birthday camera, you've already filmed a host of video tutorials. london is your designated camera-girl. you mentioned that you wanted to post your video on you-tube for other kids to see. The title you authored?

How to use a Microscope from Jacks*, by lily.


we also started a {private} blog for you to record all of your amazing discoveries and post your photography. You came up with the name.

Butterly Ash, by lily.

i'm pretty impressed. that sounds like a name of some weird, over-priced, hipster boutique in L.A. for sure. well done. i mean, it's a little bizarre too. like butterfly ash, as in an incinerated, dead butterfly? i didn't mention these thoughts, because i know your cute little heart didn't have that in mind at all. but nonetheless the name is quite catchy and makes ya think, which pretty much sums up the entirety of my mothering experience with you. it sure is catchy and makes me think. 




you are such a fun, cool kid really. as the reigning queen supreme of nerd-ville, i have no idea how this happened.

  as an illustrative aside, you LOVE the song "cool kids" by echo smith. one day, as we were driving in the car a couple months back, this song came on the radio. we cranked it up and both sang along and danced in our fantastically uncoordinated mother/daughter groove. it was lots of lawn mowin', shimmy'in, macarena'in,  and pop/lock/and droppin' in our seats in the old honda pilot. windows were down, mcdonald's fries chillin' in middle console as we both stole grabs regardless of my perpetually failed ban on both fast food and eating in a vehicle. 

suddenly, i was overcome with motherly emotion and had to stop all the commotion, turn down the music, and declare:

 "you know what Lily Haack?...YOU are a COOL KID. 

YOU are SUCH a COOL KID."

.
.
.

you looked at me and smiled that sweet eye-squinting smile which non-verbally communicates Aww, you adorable demented old lady. You kindly responded with detached clarity,
.
.
.

"mother. how could i possibly be a cool kid? look at me over here, i'm sitting in a booster seat."


and i proceeded to pee my pants. 

you never cease to prove my point.

you really are the kewlest.

you march to the beat of your own drum. the world is your oyster, kid. you are so completely and utterly yourself. i could go on gushing about the qualities i love about you. curious, driven, sensitive, kind, a heart the size of the infinite universe, intelligent, sarcastic, deep, hilarious, helpful, enthusiastic, friendly, responsible, mischievous, happy.

i get tingles all the way to my bones when i think of how you will squeeze every last good drop out of life.

{she's gonna let it shine...}


happy birthday, to the cool kid.

llllllllllllllllove,


mama


Ps...


**Please excuse the odd fonts and generally terrible formatting as you peruse the archives. This blog has been an incredibly slow work in progress. As a general guideline, I usually entirely disavow and am often humiliated when i read 99% of my thoughts/posts dating beyond 7 months since publication. The only saving grace is the darling (microscopic) pictures of my children.