You used to scare me

Dear Miss Reese,

I'm not gonna lie, you used to scare the ba-geezus out of me. You still do, but not as much. I used to tip toe around when you were sleeping, worry the whole time you were awake that you'd cry. I spent my days on maternity leave in fear of not being able to make you happy.

You are a lot less scary now. Little Miss Reese, this personality of yours, ohh it shines so bright. I know how to make you laugh now, I know about how many seconds on your stomach it will take before you get upset. Mostly though, you don't cry anymore. You whine for sure, but the red-in-the-face-scream-for-all-it's-worth days have left us (for now?).

This is how your puppy used to look when you cried:

So sad. Poor Miley-Bear. PS. This picture is from the week your dad and Grandpa Dan left me alone with you when you were 4 weeks old. You cried NON-STOP.

Now you guys look like this:

Kisses and smiles and occasional whining. Sometimes Miley doesn't want to stop kissing you.

I can't wait to watch you and Mi-Mi become the best of friends.

I told her one day she'd love you as much as we love you. And alas, that day has arrived.

Love,
MOM

A hard day

Dear Reese,

Work has been hard lately. Hard because my industry is changing, but also hard because I’ve been changing.  My priorities, my thoughts, your dad’s job, everything. It’s all different.

My darling daughter, you should know this about me. I hate change.

Your dad has been traveling for work since you were two weeks old. He is doing it to make sure you and I have a great life. We would have a great life regardless, but he’s working this hard and this much for us. Also, because he likes what he does. He likes helping people, and he likes improving. He is always striving to improve. Improve his business, improve his health, improve his life. This dad of yours Reesers, he is a great man. He will teach you a lot. I hope you’ll listen, because he has a lot to teach. I learn from him every day. What is the most important thing I’ve learned from him? Above all else, work hard and keep a positive outlook.

I’m having a hard time with the positive outlook thing lately. Work-wise, You, Miss Reese, you are the highlight of my day. I wish I could bottle your happiness when I wake you up in the morning. You are delightful. I wake you up by singing, then opening your drapes, then I peak over the crib and look down to see you smiling. A big, ear to ear, gummy smile. I take your arms and legs out of your “magic suit” and you kick and stretch and smile. Always, you smile. Our mornings, darling daughter, are the best part of my day.

Which is why it kills me when your dad is traveling. The hours of my job are pretty demanding. I have to wake you up and hussle through this beautiful morning time. This morning you were so dang cute and happy that I decided work could wait. We laughed and giggled, tried to pet your puppy Miley and giggled when she licked your hands. It was worth every second I was late, every single second.

I was the last parent to get to daycare tonight. It broke my heart, They had your car seat, bottles, everything ready to go. There was one last teacher there holding you, waiting for me. She said you kept falling asleep, even though she tried her hardest to keep you awake. When we got home you and I took a walk around the yard and checked out our flowers. You wrapped your arms around my neck and laid your head on my shoulder. When we came inside you bounced for awhile in your jumper, and then I laid you down to kick on your keyboard. We talked and kissed and kicked and giggled. I ran to the laundry room to toss your magic suit in the dryer and when I came back you were passed out asleep on the floor. You’ve never done that before. I only get 1-2 hours with you a night, and this night I had less. I just cried. I spend all day unsuccessfully trying to make accounts happy, and the two most important people (three if you count your puppy) I spend the least amount of time making happy. It breaks my heart.

Today was a hard day. But always, you are the bright spot.

Love,
MOM

Watching the fan while Mom gets dressed for work.

The First Letter (written 6.27.15)

Dear Reese,

My baby girl, honey bunny, Reesers.

All through my pregnancy I thought about keeping a journal.

But I didn’t.

Then when you were born I wanted to write down the story of your birth right away.

But I didn’t.

I wanted to scrapbook.

But I didn’t.

That’s just kind of how I am. All full of good ideas, bad with the execution.

So I thought, I’ll just write you letters. When the thoughts hit me, when the times are good, when you’re driving me up a wall.

I want you to know ME.

That might sound self centered. The thing is though, my dear daughter, I wish I could understand my own mother. I want you to know who I am as a person, and not just as your mom. I wish very much that my relationship with my mom was different. My mom is like her mother, and I don’t want to continue this trend. Things are going to be different with us. If for some reason they aren’t, I have these letters. They’ll remind me of my best intensions. They’ll show us where we were, how we got where we are.

We will be different. I promise.

These are my vows to you, my darling daughter.

I will always love you.
I will be your biggest fan.
I will protect you.
I will make decisions with your best interest in mind. There will be many decisions I make that you don’t agree with or like. My hope is that I will handle situations in a way that when you are older, you will agree with them.
I will make mistakes as a mom, and I’ll admit to them.
I will listen.
I will laugh with you.
I will cry with you over heartaches.
I will help you shop for a prom dress, a wedding dress.
I will rejoice in your victories and scoop the ice cream when you have failures.
I will always love you.

Love,
MOM