A letter to my children.
Dear Sons,
One day you will look back and remember your childhood and you may wonder, “How could Mom let me do that?”; “Who was watching us?”; or “Why didn’t they do that awesome thing I begged them to do with me that one day?”. You may declare that when you have children you will do a better job, and I believe you both will, but allow me to explain.
When your father and I first met each of you, we knew that we would give up ANYTHING in our world to make yours better. From the moment we became parents everything else that seemed so important slowly slid down, and sometimes off, our list of priorities.
We lost sleep, we lost friends, we lost money, we lost sanity, we lost interests, we lost brain cells, and we lost ourselves – only to find who we truly were, and become something more beautiful than we ever imagined… a family.
I can say without hesitation that every decision we make, action we take, and the people we try to be, is with both of you in mind. Parenting is a full time job, and we have given it our all, but with 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year…well, our all comes just a little short.
Sometimes when you ask me to read you a story I say, “Not now” and then I don’t even read it later. Sometimes when you tell me you’re thirsty, and I go to get you water, I pick up a cup and see a sink full of dishes and load the dishwasher, and cook dinner and check my Facebook and hear your questioning voice “Mom? My water?”….oh yeah. Sometimes when you’re dirty, no filthy, I don’t give you a bath. I have forgotten to feed each of you entire meals. Corbin, you once got out the front door and climbed over the fence. You were picking a flower by the road when I found you. I swear, I only left you for a moment to put cream in my coffee. Landon, one time you escaped me at a grocery store. I was so pregnant with Corbin that my run was a waddle. Thank you random stranger for boxing in my toddler. I have forgotten to strap each of your carseats in at different times. I have cursed at you, I have screamed at you. I have watched you color yourself with marker and wondered why I wasn’t stopping you. I have seen you climb dressers and leap to your doom and never reached out to catch you. I have driven away while you cried in the window and begged me to stay.
I wish I was perfect, I wish life was perfect, I wish I could be everything you need whenever you need it 24/7/365, but please know that we are doing, and have always done, our best.
Before you came along I really did know everything. I wish I could have raised you then, but now…I’m never quite sure. Since I’ve met you both I’ve questioned everything from my politics to my religion and the only thing I know for sure is that I love you both more than I ever knew I could love anything or anyone. I eat my words all of the time. I’m nothing like I thought I would be, and despite the fact that I feel like I’m doing a horrible job of parenting, if the proof is in the pudding, I guess I’m damn good at this because you’re both pretty amazing!
Okay, so maybe we’re only there for you 23/7/365, and maybe we still have a lot to learn. Maybe I don’t catch you every time…but you both jump…a LOT…and you usually land safely in my arms.
I love you both with all but one selfish inch of me, and I will move mountains for you, but you may trip on rocks. And even though 23/7/365 is only 95.8%, I promise I love you 100% of the time!!
Love always,
Mommy
Dear Mom&Dad,
I get it.
Thank you for everything.
I love you both,
Janaiah
