#lettersofalady

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A Letter on The Importance of Holding Your Kids

Dear Parents,

As I sit here a midst the calmness of sleeping children, I’m mentally winding down from an evening that was filled with blubbering screaming. It was a night where both children were slung under my arms as I hiked them both upstairs kicking, screaming, tears and snot dripping off their faces. While I’m sure the whole neighborhood heard their shrieks as I wrestled to put them in their pajamas, I couldn’t help but remove my mind from that moment only to remember when evenings were not filled with such battles. In that fleeting moment I was met with a snotty nosed, puffy eyed toddler tugging on my shirt with her arms in the air wanting for me to hold her. As I sat down on the floor to wipe her face and calm her down, she fell into my lap, draping her her arms on my neck and telling me how much she needed me.

She needed me. She needed me to stop worrying about what the neighbors were hearing. She needed me to stop worrying about getting them ready for bed. She needed me to be present in that moment. Instead I was rushing along in hopes to end this crazy tantrum and enjoy a moment of freedom. So, I sat there on the floor and I held her tightly as she sniffled and caught her breath. She needed that. I rocked her back and forth and ran my fingers through her hair while I too, began to calm down. I left behind the moment when I was focused about all other things that really can wait and just sat there, holding her. I was marveling over this person that my body helped create and now the little person she has become. Admittedly, I had lost sight that she is still a "baby" despite her extensive vocabulary, tenacity and intelligence. She needed me and truthfully, I needed her. 

In that moment she brought me back to the realness of life. She reminded me that these moments are precious and fleeting before I can even soak them in. She reminded me that I am needed far beyond the demands of diaper changes and discipline but rather to be the strength we all so desperately desired at that time. She reminded me that I too, need to be calmed. And as I held her, her little breath and mine came together. She looked up at me in a long gaze, squeezed me a little tighter and with a content little smirk told me she loved me. 

She needed me; needed my attention, my focus, my lap, my embrace and my love. I learned a very big lesson in those moments: She needed me...to just be me....and that was enough. In return, I realized how much I too, needed her... and that her ... just being her is the biggest blessing I could have in life.

So, take a moment to hold your children. Fully embrace them, slow down and breath them in. Those moments pass too quickly not to. I promise you will gain more from those moments than you can imagine. Hold them. Squeeze them. Tell them how much you love them. It's a beautiful thing.

My Love,

- A Learning Lady -

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A Letter to My Post-Baby Body

Dear Body - mighty creation that you are,

It has been a great deal of time since I've looked at you with eyes of appreciation, bid you a job well done, or proudly swooned over all you do. We share each experience together. Our eyes see the same sights. We even get flustered over the exact same things. I'd say, you and I ....   well .... you and I used to be close buddies. 

This morning we awoke in the presence of two small humans, that were once inside us, laying on the place in which they used to call home. The oldest is oddly obsessed with her previous uterus home. She points at what was once our belly button and proudly states that she came from right inside there. All awhile the youngest one is currently using us as his built in trough and is profusely smacking his hand on our chest. This morning was not much different than previous ones; maybe slightly less whining and more rambling toddler questions, but none the less, much the same. That is until the oldest sat up to take note of our loose, giggly, stretch mark ridden skin.  Placing her tiny hands on our stomach she looks up and says "this is your skin Momma. It has marks on it. It's really pretty! This is all your skin, Momma, (moving her hands in a circle) and it is all pretty!" 

Admittedly, at first thought, we think 'thanks,kid, for pointing out those marks', failing to realize the truth behind what was really spoken: "This is YOUR skin Momma and it is ALL PRETTY".  

You know, body, she's right! She knows nothing of who we used to be or what our skin looked like before our stretch marks had stretch marks. She knows nothing of the times we felt a sense of pride to wear a pretty dress that graced the top of our knees without fear of feeling as though we should not show our legs. She knows nothing of the times we could look at our-self in the mirror and not think about how we aught to change its appearance. She is simply stating a truth. A very wise truth and fact of our life, that is.

It is ALL PRETTY!  We are beautifully ridden with marks of life. Scars on our knees from sports injuries, internally healed wounds from life's struggles and most notably, the flame-like ridges that are left behind from the expansion of our body to grow a life within it.  Our eyes have lost sight of the beauty we behold for our body that is truly an incredible creation. We have looked past the fact that we see visions of the world everyday that we take for granted. We get to feel sunshine on our skin and the breeze in our hair. We have experienced the feeling of a new life squirming around inside and the intensity it takes to birth a human body. Simply, we get to feel all that life is and all that it brings. That is real beauty. 

I make a vow to you, body of mine, to recognize the incredible creation that you are and all that comes along with it. I vow to teach my children that our bodies are not simply what is viewed on the exterior but are to be valued for how meticulously it all functions. I vow to realize that our shape and marks are uniquely our own and no one else's. I vow to look at you with admiration for all that you are and all that you will be. I vow to love you, pretty marks and all.    

So, body, as we find our self trying on clothes that were from our pre-baby days, we surely feel a sense of victory. And although those feelings are followed by dreams of what we could look like, those feelings are quickly replaced with thoughts of who we really are.  We are beautiful. We are creative and intelligent. We are a powerful woman who carries many titles and wears many hats. We are us, and us only.

When the time comes, body of mine, that we change once again I will embrace it. By the grace of God we were able to grow life within us, and I surely hope we are blessed again with the opportunity to feel our body change for a new life. I am proud that the little girl who once knew what my heart sounded like from the inside, now sees beauty from the outside through pure uninhibited vision.  And when I become weary of the body we call ours, I will remind myself that I am proud of you, for the shape you hold and all you have allowed me to be. 

Let's celebrate sometime, body! Let us do a dance in our honor. Maybe a little hip shakin', dance like a fool, self lovin' time. Sound good, beautiful lady?  See you in the mirror, body. And don't forget to say Hello. You're pretty damn awesome!

Love,

- A Learning Lady -

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A Letter to My Childhood Home

To My Old Home,

Hello. I guess I should introduce myself because it’s been so very long. I am me. Do you remember? I took my first steps here, road my first bike here and spent many days walking up and down these sidewalks. I wrote on the wall with pencil atop the steep, stucco staircase, used to shock my hands every time I touched the avocado green refrigerator and I helped my Papa lay the floor in the bathroom when I was just big enough to hold a hammer. See that window up there, it’s the place where I slept and the place where my creativity was born. And this chestnut tree, not only did I spend time picking apart prickly chestnut pods to reveal the nut inside, but this tree and I had a few run-ins with my shiny red bike too. Ouch! My tiny hand prints are imprinted in the sidewalk that flanks the side of the house and it is where I used to push my little grocery cart with my baby dolls.  

Your 1918 frame held secrets that the outside world was oblivious to. You sheltered us from the outside, but it surely wasn’t warm. Your walls saw sadness, hurt and pain. It often heard words of anger and fear. It held a little girl that knew nothing else but what was felt inside those walls, but that little girl knew there was much more outside those confines.  It was in this very kitchen I felt pain and betrayal that would help mold me to be who I am. It was in this very house, I grew.

When we left you, it was bittersweet. We were moving on to a new house, with new walls and fresh paint. We were a new family. And I adopted a new room to call my own. But I can assure you that your walls were never forgotten nor your memories left behind. They live with my now and always.

I just came by to say Thank You - for allowing my mother to see her inner strength within these walls; For each time I was tucked away in my bedroom drawing; For providing us shelter from the outside even though the inside was sometimes colder; For helping make me the person I am today. Though my own children will never know these walls, my pencil marks at the top of the stairs, the view from my bedroom window or the secrets you hold, through me they will know how you helped create the person who is their Momma.

My Love,

The grown up little girl

-A Learning Lady- 

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A Letter on Potty Training

Dear Potty Training,

   I know this may sound blunt, but I loathe you. You stink, literally and figuratively. Enough already with your constant need for appreciation. It is a constant reminder to me, as a potty trained adult, who may have an occasional leak from a sneeze or laughing too hard, that the use of a potty is a luxury. Listen, I get it, you want a pat on the back. Well, fine then. I greatly appreciate what you do for society. Is that good enough?

    Let’s get a few things straight here. Right now I despise your candor when I wake up to see that my toddler peed all over my bed after I just washed the sheets the night before because the other one puked on them. I find it irritating that you think it is an “easy” task to teach a little person how to use a potty. While we are discussing the potty, yes, it is truly a “wonder of the world” when attempting to show someone how to properly use it. Watching your toddler squat in the corner, knowing darn right well what is going on, followed up by the attempt to remove her own poopy diaper is a nightmare. And then there is bath time. Don’t even get me started. Let’s just say when I am sitting in the bathtub with my kids in hopes of getting us all clean at once, the announcement that someone peed isn’t exactly enjoyable.

  I know that you invade our lives for a relatively short time but it feels like you will never, ever, ever leave. So, while you remain I ask that you live by my rules. First, understand that this task is less than easy and I ask that you take it calmly on me in the future. Secondly, I appreciate you and the modern wonder of a toilet, but I’m tired of making it a topic of discussion, so just let it go. Finally,  I know that I will be dealing with many more stinky situations so I ask that you give me the strength to plunge ahead on this not so clean, odor filled endeavor.

Thank you again for your contribution to society but forgive me if I am less than joyful to discuss it.

Sincerely,

A Mother who is attempting to potty train her child

-A Learning Lady-

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A Thank You Letter to My Mom

To My Dear Mother,  

       Do you remember the times when I thought you stayed awake all night, because that’s what Mom’s do, right? Do you remember the times you took me to countless swim lessons when I was a wee little one, only to come home 5 minutes into class because I wouldn’t put my face near the water and screamed at every attempt? Do you remember the time I ran into a tree with my shiny red bike, busted my nose and scraped up my face, not once but twice? Do you remember that I wasn’t potty trained till I was 4 because I thought a monster was going to pull me in?  Do you remember my first day of school, the funny things I would say, each time you wanted to pull your hair out because I made you mad?… Do you remember the times when life was so hard, you didn’t know how we would make it through another day? (Because I do!)

     Do you look back now and remember each of those moments with a sense of awe knowing that you did it?!?! …. You carried, birthed, raised and released your children into this unknown world only to see that the unknown world didn’t eat them up, but guided them to be the people we are? 

I know that I didn’t thank you for each of the things you did for me. You likely never felt recognized fighting through how tough our life was at times.  And I surely know that I didn’t appreciate each of these things until I became an adult. 

     Truth is, I’m sitting on the flip side wondering if I will raise children that have self-drive, resilience, confidence and compassion.  Truth is, Mom, saying thank you doesn’t seem to be enough… But I will try… 

     For all those moments you felt lost, victorious, scared and unsure, you did your best and it was just what we needed at the time.  Thank You!  You may have found yourself crying in madness or because we were growing too fast; from my end it was worth each tear and I appreciate you for shedding caring tears. For each time you felt a sense of parental pride, I hope you celebrated because you deserved to! Each time you talked me through teenaged drama or dealt with my teenage attitude, thank you for dealing with the insanity. For the sleepless nights following my birth to the sleepless nights you had when I stayed out late, thank you for getting up the next morning to do it all over again.  Thank you for letting me find me, even if it meant watching me struggle at times. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to fail, because without the failure I can assure you I wouldn’t be the person I am.  Thank you for each of the times you, yourself thought you failed as a parent because it made you a better person. For the moment you gave me away to the man of my dreams, the days you shared in the news of a new baby, the witnessing of your child giving birth to her child, each laugh you have knowing you too were once in my shoes and say “been there, done that…”…..Thank you! 

      Thank you, Mom for each moment you help mold me into the person I am and rejoice in the fact that you have accomplished the hardest task life could give you! From your adult child, raising her young babies, can you please remind me one day I too will arrive at your destination, complete with” battle wounds” to show for it? Can you once again, be my mom and tell me that it’s okay not be the best at everything as long as I tried my best? Can you tell me one day, my kids will be thankful to me for my parental choices and failures? … As you always say, you are never done raising your kids, right? Well, for this very moment you are done “raising” me. Let me be the one to pat you on the back and say “Good Job”! You did it! Kick back and enjoy the fact that diaper duty is no longer yours at 3am, the teenage drama is over and the worry of who I’m dating is no longer a source of stress.  Rejoice in the fact that all of these things are still on my parenting journey and through each one I will grow to appreciate you even more. I thank you, from the deepest part of my being for your labors of love and giving me life. Simply, whole heartedly, Thank You!  

  Love, Your slightly frazzled, not showered, adult daughter who needs to feed her kids breakfast, do laundry, change diapers and deal with toddler tantrums… Sound familiar?

Love you!

-A Learning Lady-

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A Letter on Parental Judgment : You Are "THOSE" Parents?

Dear Parents who have faced judgment about their parenting choices and those who have judged them,

To the ones who judge:

It’s true. Fully and unmistakably, we are “THOSE” parents.  You know, the ones who are highly focused on the food selections of their children. The ones who focus on the quality of activity a certain toy gives to our children. The ones who are fairly critical on what TV shows are viewed by the tiny eyes in our household.  You know,  the ones that are organic consuming,  attachment parenting, conscious buying, natural/homebirth childbirth advocating, homeschool promoting, self- researching decision makers who promote the respect of our (and others ) parenting decisions.

Yep, I said it.  We are “THOSE” parents…

I know, you may be shaking your head thinking “she’s a hippie”, right?! I invite you to go ahead and think away. I’ve straightly called myself out on some of the things I’m likely to be judged upon (and have knowingly already have been). But as “crunchy” as you might think my decisions are, I can assure you we are much more alike than different. With that…excuse me while I take care of two small, crying children…..

  To all who judge or have been judged:

Alright, if I’m being truthful, passing some type of judgment is a seed found somewhere in all of us. So, let’s set aside the differences and shed light on the realness of it all. My house is usually trashed with kids toys, dishes on the counter, piles of laundry that need to be done and/or put away. Most of the time my hair is in a ponytail, I wear sweatpants and the chance that I showered is slim. Most of the time I feel a sense of inferiority; I’m not as thin as I was, I no longer have a “career” outside of the house, and I’m lucky if I complete one task on my to-do list in any given day. I can say that my kids don’t have all the newest things, nor do I want them to. I don’t spend nearly enough alone time with my husband, there are days we get carry-out simply because I’m too tired to cook and I can honestly say that I have a hard time looking in the mirror at the post-baby body I now bear. Do you feel me?

Why is it that we feel the sense of a needed apology for our decisions or lack-there-of? Parenting has become a guilt trip and open game for judgment. If you ever feel guilty for giving your kids mac & cheese for lunch, not having enough money to buy them something they have asked for, or for your discipline choice in a moment of stress… DON’T! If you feel guilty for formula feeding your baby, letting your children watch TV so you can have a moment of quiet or wearing the same clothes for days at a time…DON’T! If you have been made to feel guilty for making decisions to be an organic supporter, natural parenting advocate, not wanting your kids to watch TV…so on and so on…. DON’T! 

DON’T make excuses for the decisions you made that work well for your family unit.You are doing the single, most important job of your life by raising children. There are bound to be missed opportunities, failures, successes and questions of if you made the right decision on a given issue. Be proud of all you do! And if along the way you are made to feel oddly for your decisions, take a moment to reflect on them and ask yourself if you made them with the deepest of intentions and did right by yourself/family. If you can answer these truthfully, then you did exactly what you needed to do. Give yourself some credit and rejoice in the making it through another day of parenting.

  We may have different styles, visions and make different choices but the truth is we are all on the same journey of hoping to raise well - adjusted children who become fully functioning citizens. Rock it, parents! Heck, treat yourself to a bowl of ice cream tonight to remind yourself you are awesome. (Although, likely you will be sharing it with other little mouths, ha!)

My Best,

-A Learning Lady-

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A Letter To My Teenage Self

Dear Teenage Self –

I am writing to you from the future; in a place where the world doesn’t revolve around you, drama filled girl-talk has been taken over by drama of trying to get laundry done with a child attached to you, and I hate to say it, but your hair is usually not done nor have you showered in a couple days. Believe it or not, you do have your own house and yes, you do have to pay your own bills. I write to you from a place that your daily smiles are given to you from a toothless baby, rather than a boy walking the halls wearing his football jersey. I’m in a place where girl talk consists of what dress-up clothes to wear next, playing grocery store and listening to make believe stories. I’m in a place where a handsome man walks through the door each evening after a long day of work, hugs you and says how nice you look, even though you haven’t changed your clothes in two days. It’s a place that isn’t always glamorous but is filled with much happiness.  Doesn’t the future sound fun?

Let’s get real here, teenager who knows all. Real life isn’t the clothes you wear, the “popular” people who hang out at your locker making you late for class or even those beloved social events you attend in hopes to catch someone’s eye. Real life is NOT giving into those lovely pressures that your peers place on you in hopes you look “cool”.  Nope, here in the future, in real life, those lovely people who hung out at your locker no longer speak to you; your clothes are not new with each season or new with each year for that matter and those beloved social events I mentioned before…they are gone…replaced by 9pm bedtimes.

I will be the first to say, dear teenager, those days are a memory that you will look back on and laugh. You will learn from every mistake, every victory, every drama filled tear and every time to stand up to those who pressure you. Let me be the first to say, dear teenager, the life you have now is simply a step in life that leads you to your future greatness; greatness that is only created by you and your drive in life. You are beautiful! You are creative! You are YOU! Don’t let society or anyone else tell you otherwise. Though you may think your parents “don’t know what they are talking about”, truth is, dear teenager, they have been there and done that. Honestly, their “stupid” requests, rules and regulations are for your own benefit! Just listen.

Truth is, dear teenager, your future life holds wonders you cannot even imagine. Those far distant dreams you have, you will reach them and beyond. You are smarter than you give yourself credit for. Those creative thoughts that flood your head will carve you a place in life. You will struggle at times with where you belong in this world, but don’t worry too much because you belong right where you are. You will gain life-long friends along your journey and lose some too. You may find the love of your life and get married! And one day, you may stand in amazement at the cusp of parenthood, wondering once again what life has in store for you. Though nothing can prepare you for holding a life you carried and birthed in your arms, you will realize that life has an entirely new meaning. It is truly beautiful!

When you are “old”, as you so nicely call those “30 somethings”, I invite you to remember those adored teenage years. I can assure you will chuckle and shake your head. But until then, keep your head high, dream big, don’t be so hard on yourself, be true to you and please, listen to your parents! They love you beyond measure and one day you will understand just how much.

My Love,

Your Adult Self

-A Learning Lady-

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To All Who Read - This is Who I Am

Who am I, you ask?

I am a mother, wife, daughter, sister, Aunt, friend, artist, designer, a passionate over thinker and creative minded. I am often a doctor, a therapist, chef, barber/hairstylist, maid, teacher, laundry technician, fixer of broken toys, professional debate speaker with my toddler, warden of my house and CEO. I am a college educated woman who is a self-driven realist, honest, compassionate and trustworthy. I tell it like it is. I am a stay at home Mom.  I am me. Fully. Wholeheartedly.  Through and through.

 I am an educated and a professionally trained Interior Architect, designer and artist. I left behind my days of business attire, hiking construction sites in heels, listening to guys throw around an ungodly amount of profanity while throwing it right back at them, having arguments about the placement of wall art and getting excited over picking finishes for a new space. I left all this behind to become, yes, a MOM! Don’t worry I can still hike in heels, although I prefer tennis shoes. I can still design some pretty awesome things. And yes, when needed, I can throw around profanity that most guys would be proud of!  (But not in front of my kids, of course!)

Why am I writing, you say?!   Honestly, I asked myself the same thing time and time again. Thus the reason it took so long for my thoughts to become real written words.

Firstly, I know that as an artist I must get an idea out of my head as soon as possible or it falls to the depths of the “art dungeon” (as I call it) and never to be seen again. When an idea keeps coming back to me over and over, I believe there is a reason for its instance in my thoughts. It empowers me to create.

Secondly, I have always written as a form of personal reflection. A form of personal empowerment for me. 

Thirdly, likely the most important lesson I learned was at a very young age. I was a child of a not secure home, abusive father and ultimately divorced parents. My sense of security was stripped from me long before I even knew what that word meant. I never knew what it was like to have parents who didn’t yell to get their point across. I never knew what it was like to feel the security of a father. I never even knew what it was like to have normal furniture in my bedroom because my clothes took up residence in my Mom’s discarded Avon boxes and were labeled with their contents on the outside. I slept in a house that had half the interior walls removed exposing electrical wires and all else. Plywood subflooring was what I knew as “wood floors”. And I found calmness tucked away in the corner of my bedroom, drawing & coloring continuously. I found strength in the resilience of my mother. She struggled to help my sister and I find our way to higher ground, while trying to take care of herself along the way. It was never an option to let these and many other events decide the path my life would take nor for me to fall victim to the ever-so-present idea that you cannot better yourself if you are not brought up in that manner. Luckily for me I was born with a fire within me. And luckily for me, I was saved.  My mother remarried a wonderful man. The person I call my Dad; the true Father in my life. I was brought into a family, who accepted me with open arms and open hearts as if I was born to them. I grew up fast those early years of life but always carry those days with me as a reminder of where I came from. This is EMPOWERMENT! 

Lastly, I came full circle. From a girl who had sleepless nights as a child because my stomach was in knots from worrying so much, to feeling a sense of loss that my little-girl-self suffered, to finding my voice, finding my passions, finding the love of my life and then growing life within me and giving birth. Each moment was marked along my own personal life map. I have had amazing people who have shed light on me during the times I needed it and because of that I am here today. I found empowerment from each of the people who have helped me along my life’s journey. Nothing more so then the process of preparing for and giving birth. I found a strength I never knew I had, a confidence I never knew existed within me, a voice that was heard loud and clear and at the end I gave life to a new little person and gave life to myself all in the same moment. This is me.

Be inspired! Come along with me.

Real letters.Real words. Real life.

Sincerely,

-A Learning Lady-