Saturday, January 10, 2009

To my children:

Three years ago today, you were born.

I know that I am not the perfect mom ... nor do I even plan on being a perfect mom. But I hope that you do know that I am trying. 

I lose my temper at times. I don't always read to you as much as I should. Sometimes a day goes by when I forget to dole out vitamins or toothbrushes. 

But that isn't because I don't love you.

Bruise, my first-born, my little man ... You can be a complete delight. I love your freely-given kisses and how you love to cuddle. I love how affable you are. I appreciate that you take after your father and love to open the door for people. I laugh at how much you love your Transformers ... and how OCD you can be about setting them up and having them "turna car" or "turna wobot." I love that you are talking more and more ... whenever you can get a word in edgewise with your sister. I think it's hilarious that you demand that we read the Jonah scripture story EVERY night that you are allowed to choose.

I might not appreciate the tantrums you throw ... or the fact that we are still struggling with using the toilet ... but there's so much awesome in you that I can look past those things.
I see you get frustrated as easily as I do. Sorry for passing on that trait. We can work on channeling that ... somehow. Maybe you can help me channel it well, too.

Three years (and nearly twelve hours) ago, we were getting you into the world. It could have been easier. Especially if they had turned up that dratted epidural. You should be proud of me for not cursing. But, oh, dear boy ... when we got through that, and they showed you to me, I knew that you were worth it. I knew that we had named you well. You bear the names of our most-influential grandfathers well. 

I am glad to be your mom. Even when you do small things that, for whatever reason, drive me a little crazy, my silly boy. Like when you crawl on the ground during Sacrament Meeting. Or throw a tantrum in the library. I love you, Bruise. I want you to know.

Bunny, my princess, my fuss-bucket ... Your entrance into the world was smoother, minutes after your brother. You're unique and headstrong, my darling. Refusing to turn and enter the world the common way ... your breech birth was seamless -- they turned up the epidural (FINALLY!!) and when the doctor pulled you out and they let me hold you ... Oh, my darling, you were beautiful even then. I am still amazed that anything so lovely and dainty and precious could have been pulled out of my vag1na.

You make me laugh with your view of the world, your straightforwardness. You really are quite a lot like me ... which, at times, can drive me toward pulling my hair out by its roots. You are like me, but you are also so much better.

I am amazed that you only seem to improve -- you are more clever everyday, more lovely everyday. You are my princess. When we have to correct your behavior, we ask you if a princess would do whatever-it-was-that-we-didn't-care-for. And, most times, you realize immediately upon that question what needs to be improved on.

I love your creativity. I crack up at some of your observations and how you use language ... You love to sing. I think, often, that you need to be in gymnastics or something to help contain your energy.

Oh, my darling, you have inherited your daddy's and my stubborn streak. Thank goodness that you and your brother have also inherited his confidence. If you keep remembering how wonderful you are ... I will worry so much less when you are in school and when you leave home.
You have also inherited my bossy streak. We can work on that one together. I will try to make SUGGESTIONS and not orders. But it helps when I am listened to (or if you and Bruise at least CONSIDER) those suggestions the first (or first DOZEN) time(s) that I extend them. -_^

I'm sorry, Bunny, for when I lose my patience with you. Please bear with me. I haven't been a mom to three-year-olds before. I am trying to get better every day. Maybe someday will come along when I won't make SO many mistakes. Give me time. And thank you for loving me even when I make mistakes.

Bruise and Bunny -- I can't believe that you're three. It's crazy. I also can't fathom life without you two in our family.

I love that you love each other so much. 
I smile when you, Bruise, get up before your sister and come cuddle with me. First you greet me, then you tell me that "[Bunny] s'eepin'." 
Bunny, it's so sweet that you get mad when Bruise won't always let you give him a hug and a kiss. I makes me laugh even more when you will chase after him and try to TACKLE him to give him that hug and kiss.

I laugh when we watch the Discovery Channel commercial about loving the whole world and you both accuse each other (and especially ME) of being a giant squid.

I love it when you try and name everyone in the family (grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles) in your prayers. Or how Bunny asks to "help us listen to Mommy, Daddy, [Bruise-y], [Bunny], and the prophet." ... And I'm so proud of you both when you try hard to be reverent long enough for BOTH of you to say your prayers at night.

I also am very proud of you when you listen and participate at storytime. And I do secretly enjoy it a bit that you orbit back to me at times. It is nice to know that you still need me. And I will do my best not to be too hurt when you're older and refuse to acknowledge me, let alone give me hugs and kisses in public.

I like that you miss Daddy when he's gone at work or for church meetings as much as I do. Every morning you will ask me, "Where Daddy?" And I'll tell you that he's at work (or, on Sunday mornings, at church). 

I am glad that you both are, most times, polite. I'm happy when you remember to say "please" and "thank you." I'm proud that you like to share with each other. ... Like when you, Bruce, will get a piece of cheese or a graham cracker and then hold out your other hand and ask, "[Bun-Bun]?" ...  just to make sure that she gets one, too. (And Bunny, you do the same thing. You'll say, "One for [B'uise]?" And, sure enough, I'm glad to give you one to take to him, too.)

I am glad to tell you honestly that I don't know of anyone who fails to like you, if not adore you. Bruise, the young women at church gush to me about how cute you are. You are a lady-killer ... and you've always been willing to flirt with anything with estrogen. It makes me laugh a little.
Bunny, as a baby, you would flirt with all the boys. You seem a little less interested now ... Your heart belongs to Daddy and your brother right now (which does relieve your father and me a little ^_^) ... but I know that someday that will change. Someday you are going to find someone who catches your heart ... and I can only hope that he treats you with all the love, affection, and respect that you are worthy of.
(Same for you, Bruise -- I know that you will find another woman to replace me as the holder of your affections. And I'm going to try and be brave. But, by golly, she had better love and respect you as best she can (and I'm hoping that she's awesome! Please, Bruise, choose an awesome girl. Even better if she's more awesome than I am. Maybe someone as awesome as your sister??).)
And, you two, I am going to TRY to be a good mother-in-law to your spouses.

Please don't move too far away, when you grow up, okay? I will miss you too much.

And, when you're grown up, you'd better call me. Or I'm going to be calling you.
And don't answer the phone when you're in flagrante delicto. I am just going to imagine that you and your spouse innocently bud the dear grandchildren that you will give me -- like amoebas. 

And, if you do have questions about sex and stuff ... do know that you can come to me. I will give you the best answers that I have. And, if I don't know, I will research it as best I can.
As I will do for all questions you ask me.
Because I love you.
Very much.

(Please, when you grow up, don't move too far way. Can you promise me this?? Please? I'll respect your privacy! I promise!!)

3 comments:

Fold My Laundry Please said...

Happy Birthday Bunny and Bruise!!!

Cynthia said...

Happy Birthday Bunny and Bruise!
(and you should save this letter so they can read it when they're older. It was beautiful)

Katherine said...

You are such a terrible person... why did you make me go and cry like that. It's not like I wanted to randomly break down in the middle of my bathroom (kids are bathing) and ball like a hormonal lady.

Tis a lovely letter and I hope the twinners had a rockin' birthday. It seems to go by way too quickly, doesn't it.

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