A Letter to My Son on His Third Birthday

Dear Little Wild Man,

This weekend you’re turning three years old and it takes my breath away that I’ve had you in my arms for that amount of time.

Speaking of you in my arms, I wish I could count the times you’ve collapsed into me, because that’s the way you hug. At first you hesitate, waiting, waiting, waiting to feel safe enough and then your eyes light up and you run full speed ahead. You spring-jump-leap-pounce-pummel-into me until I sink back on the floor from the sudden weight of you. There is no half way. Parenting you has always been like this.

Soon your sister will be old enough to appreciate your big leaps of love. For now, she cries when you hug and tumble her to the floor. But I see the twinkle in her eyes every time when you coming running. She lights up with her whole body, flapping here arms like she’s ready for take off. I hope you can see the light you’ve put in our eyes too, your dad and I. There really is a sparkle to the world that we didn’t have before you.


Right now you are a beautiful mix of big boy and baby, all wrapped up in straggly curls and blueberry eyes. You make up songs, like to have three different beverages available at all times, and prefer to not ever change your clothes. I love how your fingernails are full of dirt from our garden and your shirts are usually colored with a mixture of water color paints and juicy dribbled tomato.


You used to be so slow to scale or slide, but now you scramble up to heights way higher than we can reach. I watch from the ground below and know this is just the beginning.

I’ll always try to give you enough space to roam freely, but just between me and you, I’ll be hoping that you run back to me with a startling hug. At the end of the day dear boy, I’d rather be knocked down from the love of you than standing tall and sure on my own two feet.

Love, Mama


Hello and Welcome!

I want to extend a very warm welcome to those of you who
have decided to follow my humble internet space. I hope we can get
to know each other better in the days to come. A couple of weeks
ago I tentatively shared the story I had written about my imperfect
marriage. The words had been swirling in my heart and I typed them
up quickly while hiding from my kids in the bathroom, using my
thumb to punch out the letters on my phone. Sometimes we create
something that we’re afraid of because it doesn’t stay within the
lines that we’ve carefully drawn to keep us safe. It flows and
moves and has a life all on it’s own. My kids are like this
for me and that piece of writing was like this. Not just for
me, not really about me. A piece of the bigger story we’re writing
together. When I step into that place of pure potential, I can feel
it sweeping me away to a better place. A place where one housewife
going crazy in her kitchen can remember to go outside and take a
look around. I don’t have to get it right, or even try to. All I
have to do is press “publish” on the things that I see. I don’t
know how often I’ll be able to write in the months to come. I can’t
promise that I’ll have any deep insights for you or that my grammar
will be polished. What I can do is keep telling you the truth and
believe that since we really aren’t that different, my struggles
will somehow strike a chord with you. Thank you for giving me an
audience to write to and the inspiration to make writing more a
part of my life. It’s a huge gift and I’m awfully glad you’re here.
I have a new facebook page if you want to join: www.facebook.com/flysoftlymylove
next time, here’s a picture of my two kiddos who have been going a
bit bonkers today. I blame the full blue moon which will rise at
about 6:45 pm in my part of the world. Image