A Letter.

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Dear ONE,

Today when I dropped you off at school, it was hard. Almost as hard as the first time I dropped you off anywhere. You don’t know why I hugged you so tight. You just smiled up at me and said “Bye, Mommy!” And when I lingered in the hall, you peeked out of the classroom and stared with big round eyes. You’re used to me just walking away and not looking back, but today I stood there for a moment not wanting to leave.  

It shook me down, this unspeakable thing. I can’t stop thinking about it. I wake up in the night and tiptoe into your room and then your brother‘s room and watch each of you sleep and think about how blessed we are. So far, true evil hasn’t touched us. One day, it might. All we can do is keep moving forward. 

So I did. I walked out of your school building and held TWO’s hand all the way to the car. And then we drove away. 

You don’t know about the evil of the world yet; you’re still trying to figure out why you aren’t allowed to say the word “idiot.” You don’t know what happened in Connecticut on December 14th. One day you might hear about it, but right now is not the time.

Sometimes unspeakable things happen. By the time you are old enough to read this letter, who knows what kinds of horrible things we will have seen and heard. But the world has a lot of good in it, ONE. A lot of love. Our house is full of love. Our friends and family’s homes are full of love. It’s our job to love people and spread the good. But — there is also evil out there. It’s always been, and it always will be. I can’t shield you from it entirely, but I can sure as hell try.

What I want for you and your brother and your little unborn sibling more than anything is for you to show each other love. And go out there into the world with its good and its evil and love other people. I don’t expect you to change the world, but by loving yourself and loving others, YOU WILL CHANGE IT.

Entirely Too Early.

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Since becoming pregnant I have made a habit of getting in bed by 9 p.m. My friends can make fun all they want … but when a mother is awakened numerous times by a sick boy who wants nothing to do with his daddy, he ONLY WANTS MOMMY at 12:45, and 1:45, 2:45, and 3:45 when she finally gets up and starts laundry and makes him a bed on the couch and makes herself some coffee …

SHE IS GLAD SHE WENT TO BED EARLY.



4:00 A.M.

 

Wednesday.

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I don’t know what is going on with Husband, but I like it. Last night, he scrubbed the coffeepot, which has never in its life been scrubbed clean, and this morning he made coffee without me asking him to and THEN HE BROUGHT ME A CUP OF IT.

Who is this man?! I’d like to keep him.

Maison.

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Maison is the Cajun term for “house,” which is as close to the word “home” I could find through my friend Google. I haven’t talked much about how happy I am to be home this Christmas. Where else can you find a Blue Dog interpretation in the pediatrician’s office?! Totally made my day.

 
Moving back home to Baton Rouge was the best decision Husband and I could have made. There have been sacrifices, yes. This wasn’t something that was simple for us to do. We have a home back in Alabama that is now going through foreclosure, so that lets you know the kind of situation we’re in. But it was a good decision for us nonetheless, and being here during the holidays has been so much fun. Sometimes I feel like it still hasn’t sunk in that we are HERE, we really do LIVE here … there is still a novelty that hasn’t worn off.

I had forgotten about the culture, the way of life, the ease of the people here. There is a sense of neighborliness that I haven’t found in other places. We just fit here, in the mugginess that never leaves ... with the people who don‘t care what you’re wearing or who you know. Everyone here just wants to enjoy life. WE want to enjoy life. So there it is. 

This Christmas for us means jazz music, shopping with my mother (a rarity before now!), leaving the kids with a grandparent so Husband and I can get holiday errands done, catching Mardi Gras beads at a Christmas parade, and watching lit-up alligators pull Santa’s sleigh instead of reindeer.

It means bananas foster lattes, OB’s named Dr. Boudreaux, and a family that’s growing. This year, despite all of our challenges, we are very, very BLESSED.

Husband Award.

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Husband deserves recognition for being awesome this week. 

He brought me flowers. He and my father-in-law took the toilet apart during a two-night process and retrieved the Tonka truck that was causing it to repeatedly overflow. He cleaned the bathroom after they put it all back together. He also scrubbed the bathtub, since I am not supposed to breathe in chemicals during gestation.

He ran errands, fed and bathed the kids, and got the house cleaned up so I wouldn’t have to do it. He cooked all of us eggs to order this morning. (!!!) Mine was fried and it was divine. 

He made me coffee and rubbed my feet and told me several times I wasn’t crazy. I don’t care if he was lying. I love that man. All past sins have been forgotten.