to barclay on his 9th birthday

to my first born love,

Today has been nine years since they placed you in my arms, screaming and alert.  You were born, I was born.  I kind of feel like I have grown along side you, in my own way.  

Let me first say that I am in awe of you.  You are the most complex human being I have ever met.  I am forever curious about what you are experiencing, feeling, thinking, creating.  You surely are a beautiful creation by God.  You tend to swing to extremes ( I have no idea where you got that from-cough cough).  

You are soft and kind and intense and then you are intense and hard.

You are mature far beyond your years and then you are pure and childlike.

You want to go, you want to stop.

You laugh, you cry.

You love hard, you withhold.

You create, you create, you create.

You imagination is incredible.  I'm so thankful at 9 you still love pretending and inventing games and stories to act out.  You are really into Narnia right now-particularly King Peter.  I'm holding my breath in this next year.  Can this pure imaginative state continue at this age?  Please say it is so.

You want to be an adult.  In fact I think you are more adult than me.  I might have to admit that might be a bit true.  You started drinking coffee in Costa Rica and just love having a cup every now and then.  You are begging me to take a thermos of it to school.  You also have started going to work with your daddy.  It coincides with times when I cannot hold your intensity a moment more.  You love it.  You eat it up.  You have a desk with a phone and some affirmations above it.  You will call me so many times (and this is usually after a fight between us) just to chat casually.  A softening for us both.  You also have your own business cards Noah printed for you.  Barclay George.  Assistant.  I was frozen with my mouth gaping open when you casually handed your card to a waitress and said "If you ever have any buying or selling real estate needs, here's my card."

To be honest it's really hard to show you my love.  Snuggles and back rubs don't work.  Words don't ever seem to sink in.  GIfts fade in moments.  But letting you do big things makes you crack wide open.  Things like running in and paying for takeout (but you tip too much.  ha!), packing lunches for me, cleaning Sullivan's room, starting the car in the morning.  

This year was the year of the "fancy clothes".  You went months wanting to wear pants, collared shirts, a blazer, a tie and a fedora.  And sometimes you wear reading glasses with the glass punched out.  I have been awe struck by how much you don't care what others think about that.

In one way you don't care at all what others think, and on the other hand you are desperate and anxious inside to connect with others.  This is masked with some very immature and hurtful outside actions.

You aren't thriving in school.  It breaks my heart.  You're at a desk by yourself agains a wall because you can't keep your hands to yourself.  Every time she moves you back she can't teach.  You are "that kid" in your class.  You are always in trouble (despite a lot of collaboration between your teacher and me).  You're not mean though, and that I'm thankful for.  To be honest, we are looking to medicate you this year because it's painful to watch you suffer and we have done our darndest to avoid it with diet and therapies and CBD oil and brain remapping.  I just don't you suffering anymore.

This year you started mandolin lessons!  You love it and are good at it.  You also started playing tennis 2 times a week and are also amazing at that.  You're working with an occupational therapist that is brilliant and who gets you.  Like sees the brilliant you.

I have been very moved this week to wipe the slate clean with you.  Years of trying to "fix you" has built up layers of a wall between us.  I just love you and I don't want you to have a hard life.  But more than that, I want you to know that I love you, fully and completely-just as you were created.  I don't want you to think that I am constantly chiseling you to be what I want you to be.  I'm brought to my knees almost daily by my lack of control over you, and I am left with my only option of laying with my hands held open.  

I can see it, Barclay, I can see you years from now.  Your brilliance exposed to everyone.  I can see you happy and thriving and changing the world.  

You are my world changer and I am honored to be your mother.  I am honored to watch you unfurl into who are were created to be.  

love your mama  

to lucy miller on her 4th birthday

my gift,

I know you have some incredible reasons for being born but one of them is for sure showing me up close and personal that God cares deeply for me.  You fulfill even the wildest of yearnings of my heart.  You are joy and sunshine.  Your sparkly dark eyes are full of adventure and brimming with courage.  

You still let me dress you up like my own personal baby doll.  Although I fear that soon you're going to have a lot more to say about things.

This year we took you to Costa Rica.  It was your second time going-first was in my 7 month pregnant belly.  While we were there you ran barefoot and naked feeding monkeys and digging in the sand.  A little brown beach baby.

Your words are changing.  It makes me sad!  I keep jotting down any word I remember to write down phonetically.  Some of my favorites are:

"I'm gonna win ya!" 

"Attending" (pretending)

"Not yeady"

You and your brothers.  I crack up so much that with these two crazy boys...you rule them.  One there was a lot of arguing in the back seat and the boys were fussing at each other.  You were in the middle of them and would randomly hit them in the face with the back of your hand and without even blinking.  You are TOUGH.  

The boys ADORE you.  They are competing constantly for "best bwudder".  Throughout the day this changes.  "Barclay you are being mean.  Sullivan is my best bwudder."  "Oh Sullivan I love this flower!  You're my best bwudder."  And then theres often when you declare your love for both at once and everyone melts.

When I drop you off at preschool (always a bit late since you are NOT a morning person), all your little friends are waiting at the door for you and a mass cheer happens when you walk up.  At least one pretend play idea is ready and waiting for you to step in as bride, queen, mother, etc.  You are beloved.

It is really special being your mama.  If I walk just 4 feet behind you it's like watching a rainbow part the dead sea.  Everyone that sees you smiles, maybe even giggles.  Hard hearts are melted, smile lines are wrinkled.  Once in Target you declared in the produce section that you were "DYING for a carrot."  Three women almost fell on the ground they were giggling so hard.  I took you to the nutcracker for Christmas and you wore the little tutu I got at a yard sale.  I felt like you were Shirley Temple walking through.  Everyone was in awe of your beauty and your bursting with life self.  

I look forward to another year of watching you unfold.  You are a rare and precious gift to this undeserving Mama.  

I love you so deeply my words couldn't even say it.

mama

to my sullivan on his 6th birthday

My darling valentine,

I cannot believe that it has been 6 years since you were placed in my arms, the most beautiful, fat newborn. 

This year you wrapped up preschool and skipped your way over to Kindergarten.  You have done beautifully.  You are eager and curious about learning and meeting new friends.

You continue to be my snuggler.  Every evening heavy sighs of happiness fill my ear as you wrap your arms around my neck.  I feel your love deep in my bones.

You are a wonderful friend and can always be found following friends around doing what they want to do.  You also frequently give away your favorite things-just to make others happy.

Every time I've had a bad day, you are there telling me I am the most wonderful mama (even though it isn't true often times) and that you love me so so much.  

You are a gift.  

Sullivan, you are balm to my weary heart.  I am so happy I am your mama.

Mama