Dear Mom,
Last weekend brought the first truly cold evening and as I snuggled into my flannel pajama pants, I thought of you. This month is both of our birthdays and I remember picking and carving pumpkins and getting ready for my favorite holiday, Halloween.
It’s such a busy time of year and we have so much going on just at our house. The big news is that Selah started walking, and now she can’t be stopped. At 14 months, she’s as feisty and independent as ever, and she looks like a Mini Me, fat cheeks and all. It seems obvious that the sassy gene you passed down to me will live on for another generation, and also that we are totally in for it if she grows up to be anything like her stubborn mama and headstrong grandma.
What can I say about Wolfe? He’s 2 and a half and way too smart for his own good. He’s quite the character and jokester and makes us laugh often. Not going to lie, he’s going through a bit of the Terrible Two’s as far as pushing boundaries (which he does well and often) but his fun, vivacious personality makes up for the sometime naughty behavior. He loves music and his guitar and his tastes range from The Avett Brothers to Katy Perry.
Daniel and I are doing well, too. We still like to watch our family shows “Survivor” and “Amazing Race” together, and most days are divided up into work and taking care of little kids. Earlier in the year I was doing really good exercising and eating right, but recently I have fallen off the healthy bandwagon and increased my workload and overall feel like a crazy person.
I’d like to think you’re looking down on us and can see your grandkids. They are, like, everything you could hope for — silly and smart and active and sweet (and also demanding and exhausting. Why didn’t you ever tell me kids were so much work?) Sometimes I hope you’re not watching us, especially when I’m tired or impatient and the kids are fussy or whiny and something will happen, like the cat puking on the carpet, that will just send me over the edge and I either freak out at any unsuspecting animal or human in my path or go lay on my bed and close my eyes and wish the day was over. I guess every mom has moments like that, and it’s during those times I wish I could talk to you most. We would have long conversations like we used to, and then you would try to give me advice and I would get mad and defensive and sometimes even hung up the phone because I didn’t want to listen to your help. Ha, just thinking of how I used to act like such a brat makes me laugh and cry at the same time. I’m sad because I’m sorry for putting you through such hell (especially as a teenager). And I’m laughing because it’s not until now, with my own kids, that I can understand what you must have been going through but will never be able to say thank you for everything you gave me and all the love you bestowed on me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I hope to be half as good a mom to my kids as you were to me. I miss you and love you.
Always, Pamela
