Thursday, October 11, 2012

morning dreams.

Dear little ladies of my life,

It's six thirty am, and the house is still quiet with the sounds of your snores. Sweet peace. I am coming to love mornings more than I ever thought I would. It is the only time of day that I can enjoy a moment of reflection without falling comatose and drooling, head down on any flat surface within seconds from pure exhaustion. And yet still, I am typing fast because it will only be minutes before you all come prancing into the bedroom ready to giggle and jump into bed with me. As tired as I still may be I love our post-sleep reunions. It's a scene I could never fully illustrate or imagine pre-children. It's like I put you to bed anxious for you to JUST BE QUIET GO TO SLEEP I LOVE YOU BUT IF I SO MUCH AS SEE YOUR LITTLE FACE PEEK OUT OF YOUR DOOR AGAIN SO HELP ME ALMIGHTY...

But after just a few short hours, I find myself once again brimming with enthusiasm to greet your smiling (or in Lundy girl's case grumpy) faces and disheveled bedheads. I go into Ellie Jane's room, see her standing - little arms reaching from the crib - and man oh man, you would think I had just reunited with her for the first time in thirty years. It's like she's been the awarded the coveted Nobel SheWokeUpfromHerNap prize!!!!! We squeal, we jump up and down, we hug, we smoochieticklesmoochie. It's just the best. Nothing like it.

I also fantasize in these moments about ways I'd like to be a better parent to you. Well, fantasize is a nice word. Obsess might be more accurate. oh well. Anyhooo. When I draw my mind out of the myriad of trivial and yet necessary details of daily living with you, when I shift my focus to the whole rather than all the little parts, I remember what a massive task I have at my feet.

There are days when I mistakenly think my talents or my drive or my creativity were wasted on a day of drudgery. But then I see this whole picture. This life with you, and I am again reinvested and plugged in to becoming more conscious of how I create your little world. Your reality. 

Seriously, I create so much of your reality.

That is just mind-boggling to me. Absurd, really. Your memories, your health, your attitudes, your little brain synapses firing and shooting in every direction making new connections daily: those are all mostly influenced by silly ridiculous little old me.

That monumental event, that fundamental chapter of our lives which we adults draw so much of our worldview....childhood! Your's is here, staring me in the face daily and asking: what are you going to do with it? What lens will you teach them to see the world through?

Motherhood may be daunting but I'll tell you this, 
when I keep that whole equation in mind it is never boring.

I decided early on that I wanted to be a conscious and aware mother, but I also want to keep a lid on the crazy obsessive helicopter mother in me too. There is a part of me that senses that the success of our lives won't necessarily register in all the accolades, the awards, the perfectly executed timelines and activities. I know I can't micromanage your way to a good life. Instead I suspect that I will only be able to provide a general and even vague blueprint for you to draw upon. And hence I have adopted the strategy that as your mother

my best defense will be to have a good offense.

In my loftiest dreams, I imagine your lives as shiny little buckets. Like those cute vintage galvanized tin ones.;) Rather than facing outward with my fists clenched and limbs flailing in a constant state of knee-jerk reaction, always attempting to shield you from every possible little droplet of bad that could enter, I hope to instead mostly be busy running to and fro, gathering from the periphery all that good life liquid. I imagine pouring gallons and gallons of it in, watching it swish and splash and cleanse and refresh. It may be a silly analogy but it is a good working model for me.
 I dream of girls whose lives are filled with all kinds of books, conversation, family, relationships, travel, education, ideas, dancing, athletics, food, faith, transcendence, spirit, warmth, laughter, music,  zest.

I don't imagine a long list of "DON'T's" in my scheme. But don't get any crazy ideas Miss Prisses, there will be don'ts. But, I hope my admonitions will largely be about what you can do rather than what I insist you stay away from. I picture the following question forming our parameters, summoning our family motto that I imagine you will come to roll your eyes at regularly when you're 17 and asking if you can do/date/befriend/learn/try the following (fill in the blank)...

"Is it virtuous, lovely, of good-report, or praiseworthy*?"

Then go for it. Date it. Befriend it. Learn it. Try it. 

So... that is what I was thinking of this quiet morning which has miraculously remained uninterrupted as of yet. That, and the load of laundry I forgot to switch last night from the washer to the dryer that will now smell like mildew. With that realization I must end this epistle.

 Oh my darling darlings, my little ladies, my girls:
I know that interesting and lovely lives are in store for you. Because well, you are already inherently interesting and lovely. Mama didn't have much to do with that.

I love you like a crazy person who imagines you are a tin galvanized much,


* Article of Faith XIIIChurch of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
 (ie, know: the mo mo's, moboyz, the mo d o double shizznos in yo hizzos... we be mormons? yes? no?)
 statement of belief:

 "We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and doing good to all men; indeed we may say we follow the admonition of Paul--we believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things."

1 comment:

Joan said...

I need to write love notes like this to my boys. Such a treasure. Thanks for giving me perspective after a rough morning :)