Kaitlin ☼ Pearl

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Mother's Day, One Year Past

I came across this unpublished letter to Lorelei just before I began writing about yesterday's Mother's Day experience. I've decided to publish this letter instead, as it brings back wonderful memories of a time that Lorelei is no longer in, but a time that Isla will be in soon enough. 

Dear Lorelei,

Tomorrow will be my third Mother's Day (second with you actually having been born), and I am so excited. That may first make you think that I’m excited to get presents and have a day where I’m “honored” as a mom by anyone who sees me with you, but none of that is actually the reason why I’m excited.

I’m simply excited to see you in the morning.

I’m excited to see you get excited to see me when I come to get you out of your crib.

I’m excited to kiss your cheeks ten times in a row and admire your bedhead hair and ask you why you took your pants off in the middle of the night.

I’m excited to hand you a piece of toast and then subsequently tell you that, “we don’t throw our food on the floor in this house.”

I’m excited to put on Sesame Street for you so that I can drink my coffee while it’s lukewarm.

I’m excited to hear you announce that you’re pooping and watch your face turn red and hear your funny little grunting noises, serving as proof that you are actually pooping and not just telling me that to get my attention (which is something you do now).

I’m excited to change your diaper. Actually, I’m not really excited to change your diaper, but I’m excited to hear you talk to the little fake bird in the birdhouse on the shelf in your room, saying “Tweet tweet!” with a big smile on your face while I breathe through my mouth and try to finish cleaning your bottom as fast as possible.

I’m excited to choose an outfit for you to wear, and then chase you around your room trying to convince you to stand in one spot so I can dress you.

I’m excited for you to bring me your favorite pair of shoes, and I’m excited to watch you attempt to put your socks on by yourself before I put them on your tiny, adorable feet.

I’m excited to take you out onto the balcony and watch you dump cups full of sand outside of the sandbox.

I’m excited for you to pull leaves off of my potted succulents and present them to me as a gift.

I’m excited for you to lose interest in your many outdoor toys after a mere five minutes, choosing to stand and hug my leg instead.

I’m excited to feed you lunch (cottage cheese with salsa), or rather watch you feed yourself your lunch. You may really enjoy throwing your food on the ground, but you never waste a bite of cottage cheese, and that makes lunchtime really, really easy.

I’m excited to watch you poop again, because that means you won’t wake up during your upcoming nap due to sleep-pooping.

I’m excited to read you a story while bouncing you in your bouncer. We’re currently reading Ella Enchanted, and you love it. You smile at me while I read animatedly and hug whichever stuffed animal you’ve chosen to nap with as tightly as possible, and when your eyes start to close I scoop you up and give you lots of kisses as I lay you down in your crib. You say “night night” as I leave the room, and my heart melts.

I’m excited to rejuvenate during your naptime. I eat lunch and watch the TV shows your dad doesn’t like. I check my e-mail and read random articles recommended by friends, and I also try to tidy up the mess we’ve made, because mornings are seriously messy.

I’m excited for you to wake up from your nap. Like, really excited. Even if I’m exhausted and think I might not be excited, I’m excited. Whether you wake up happy or sad, I’m able to get the afternoon off to a good start by dancing idiotically in your doorway.

I’m usually excited to take you to whatever class or meet-up we have planned for the afternoon. You say “hi” to everybody and dance at random moments out of pure happiness. The afternoons are usually very fun for us.  But since today is Mother's Day, I’m sure we’ll spend the day with family (your great-grandmother from New Zealand is visiting right now so everything about today is extra special), and I’m sure you’ll have a hell of a time entertaining everybody with all of the words you’ve learned and the skills you’ve mastered.

I’m excited for dinnertime to be over with so we can move on to bath time. You LOVE your baths. You like to pour the water on yourself and dance to the music I play for you on my phone. You like to throw your toys out of the tub and ask for them back. You like it when the cats come over to see what’s going on. You like to make me blow soap bubbles off of your hand. And I like to see you like everything so much. When bath time is over, I’m excited to snuggle your tiny little towel-wrapped body. I’m excited to show you yourself in the mirror and watch you wave to yourself. I’m excited to hear you giggle when I let you touch all of my hanging necklaces with your toes. I’m excited to hear you say “Bye Clemmy!” to Clementine, who is always waiting outside of your bedroom door, ready to sneak in.

I’m excited for pajama time to begin because your “calming lotion” smells so damn good and you are just super happy to be getting cozy. You talk to that fake bird again and you give me a big hug when I carry you to your bouncer.

I’m excited to continue reading Ella Enchanted because I’m usually dying to find out what happens next. Sometimes you fall asleep really fast, but I keep reading because I like to finish whichever chapter I’m on before calling it quits.

I’m excited to kiss your cheeks as I lay you in your crib once more, and I’m excited to hear you say “night night” again. I long for the day where you say, “I love you,” back to me. That day will certainly be treasured forever.

I’m excited to be your mom, and do mom things, and think mom thoughts, and feel mom feelings. I’m excited to drink margaritas in honor of my mom-ness and go to sleep going over my mom to-do list for tomorrow.

Thank you for being the reason I am now known as “mama.” You are the sweetest, best, coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.

Love,
Mama

Mother's Day 2014, the day this was originally written.