Wow, yet another month has flown by and here we are in May for another installment of the Letters to Our Children blog circle!
I decided it was time to write you a letter this month as I had written one to Jonah in March! Noah, words cannot express how much of an amazingly kind and sensitive child you are. As the days pass, I am in awe of how you are growing up and becoming such a caring, thoughtful person. You are so kind to everyone, even when your brother is endlessly beating up on you, and so conscious of when others are feeling sad or hurt. As you finish up your final days of kindergarten and get ready to embark on your first grade journey, I worry your ability to handle a less than hospitable world, a fear I am sure every parent faces. I know that it is inevitable that other children will unkind to you, say nasty things, and strike out—I can only hope that you will find the strength to stand up for what is right without losing confidence or belief in yourself or convictions.
In addition to being such a caring person, you also possess the ability to effortlessly bring a smile to people’s faces through your laughter. You have the most infectious laughter I have ever heard—it draws people in, bringing huge smiles to their faces as they hear the pearls of laughter erupt from you while watching a goofy cartoon or your brother perform some crazy antic. Your innocent laughter has remained a constant and I dread the day when those silly little boy giggles will be heard less and less as you grow up. But for the moment, I am choosing to focus on the now and the time we are spending together.
We have had such fun over the past month embracing the warmer weather (finally!), and I have so many wonderful photographs that seem to capture your personality at this age. I look forward to a fun-filled summer full of lots of laughter and many exciting adventures!
As always, I hope that you will continue on and read the next amazing letter by Karin T O’Brien in our “Letters to Our Children” blog circle!
Dear Noah and Jonah,
So much has happened since my last post only one short month ago. There are so many thoughts whirling about in my head that I am not even sure if I am going to manage to get them all down in a cohesive manner, but I will give it my best shot. I have found myself really struggling with what I wanted to say to you both this month as there has been so many bad things happening—floods, explosions, bombings, shootings and the list goes on. Despite all the heaviness and heartbreak that has been happening in the world around you, you have both remained oblivious to all that has been going on—and thankfully so.
I do, however, recognize that there will come a time when I cannot shield you from the sadness and pain that happens all around us, no matter how hard I try. Yet, my hope is that when that time comes, your father and I will have taught you to see the good in the world, even when it seems like there is none to be had—and not only see the good, but to be a part of creating it. I hope that you will be able to make your own happiness and seek out the things that restore your faith in humanity and lessen the impact of all the sadness and wrong-doing. You must always let the goodness be your center and ground you. Unfortunately, there are always going to be bad people doing bad things, but you cannot let them win.
So, with these photos I was hoping to show you all that is beautiful and good with our lives: losing a first tooth; skipping dinner to have a joyful romp in the front yard full of sleet after a crazy thunderstorm; and playing in the park amongst the first spring flowers. And maybe this letter is less about you this month than it is about reminding me that there is still happiness and good in the world. Both you and your father are my center of goodness—my all-that-is-right-with-the-world when all that is going on around me in the world seems to be full of such sadness and violence. Yes, we have our ups and downs, but there will always be our laughter—and smiles—and hugs that serve as a constant reminder of all that is right with our world.
As always, I hope that you will continue on and read the next amazing letter by Jessica Gwozdz in our “Letters to Our Children” blog circle!
I think I have finally come to terms with the fact that raising you is going to be my greatest challenge. I know I am going to be looking forward to years of calls/notes/emails from teachers because you challenge everything and want to do things your own way. If I say black, then you say white. If I tell you to go this way, you tell me that you want to go that way. If you are told that the sky is blue, you will find a way to convince everyone that it is green and it always has been that way. You are determined and strongly believe in yourself and your ideas—and although it can prove to be rather difficult on a daily basis, I envy you for that. I hope that you will continue to believe in yourself and only grow stronger in your convictions as you get older. However, for the purposes of my sanity, I think I will direct all teacher correspondence to your father…
Complimenting your strong personality is your amazing ability to read people and diffuse a situation. Just when I think you have pushed me to the point of no return, you turn around, crack a smile and wink—or wiggle—or give me a hug. Once you turn on the charm, then all hope is lost for me and I dissolve helplessly into laughter, only to encourage more of your goofy behavior. Not a day goes by when you don’t succeed in eliciting a deep, heartfelt laugh from everyone in the house. Of course, it doesn’t really help my discipline efforts, but I have a feeling your sparkling charm may help you to avoid getting into too much trouble.
Some of my favorite photos that truly illustrate your quirky personality were captured a few weeks ago just after we got our new table, complete with chairs that had arms. One of the nice things about having arms on the chairs is that it helps to keep mischievous little boys in their seats—or so I thought. Despite being told to stay in your chair, you had other ideas about what you wanted to do. I turned my back for a minute, and the next thing I heard from you is “I stuck!” When I saw you, I could not help but to burst out laughing and immediately reach for my camera on the counter to capture the moment—it still makes me laugh thinking about it, even though you were pretty ticked off at me for not coming to your immediate rescue. And obviously you recovered quite nicely as you immediately climbed back up on the chair and pointed out to me where you had just gotten stuck!
I hope that you will continue on and read the next letter by Jaimie Hurst in our “Letters to Our Children” blog circle!