A letter to my girls:
Dear Liv and Mare-Mare,
I’m just going to say it: You guys wear me out. That said, I’ve discovered the wonders of caffeine in recent weeks. I lived 34 years without drinking coffee, but one day, around 4 o’clock–my usual low-point–I had the not-so-novel idea that some caffeine may help me get through the hours before dinner. After only one cup, I thought, “This stuff is legal?!” I realized, since drinking the stuff, that I am probably a better mom on coffee. That is to say, when I have energy. Thus began my reflection on how I hope you might one day look back on our days together when you were little.
I hope you remember that we went for lots of hikes in the Valley so you could smell the fresh air and get in touch with nature, and not just the times I hoped you’d watch “Olivia” a little longer so I could sit still for a minute.
I hope you remember home-cooked meals and lots of fresh veggies and fruits, and not just the times I served chicken nuggets again because I was too exhausted to think about dinner.
I hope you remember that I talked to you patiently and calmly when you were having a rough day, and not just the times I said something like, “Because I said so.” Ugh.
I hope you remember that I listened to you and engaged in conversations with you, and not just the times I absentmindedly responded, “Mm-hmm” to something you were trying to tell me.
I hope you remember that I answered most of your questions thoughtfully, and not just the times I stopped responding because I was too tired to think of one more answer.
I hope you remember that I let you get messy in the sandbox, the flowerbeds, and in mud puddles, and not just the times I said, “Not today,” because I didn’t want to clean up the mess.
I hope you remember that I sat on the floor with you for lots of hours of reading and playing, and not just the times I asked you to entertain yourself so I could fold laundry or empty the dishwasher because I didn’t want to be doing those tasks at 10 o’clock.
I hope you remember that we ran through the sprinkler, played in the snow, and jumped in the leaves, and not just the times I said, “We don’t have time.”
I hope you remember that we spent hours reading together, making crafts, coloring, baking, imagining, exploring, and just being goofy. Mostly, I hope you remember me loving every minute of it. With or without coffee.