Happy Birthday, Eliza
My dearest Eliza,
It’s your seventh birthday. I wondered how long it would be before your birthday was just your birthday and not the anniversary of the day I didn’t die. Apparently, seven years. Because today, I’m just thinking about you.
Today, I’m grateful you’re here with us. Last weekend, we had Chinese food from a new place, and apparently they use peanut oil and don’t advertise it because you had a horribly severe allergic reaction and spent most of Saturday night in the ER with your dad while I spent the night with Griff assuring him that you would be ok. We’re glad you’re ok and that you’re here with us. Just like seven years ago, our family needs an Eliza. 
Your daddy says he’s not ready for you to be seven, and you say that he can’t be not ready until you get out of the ‘ones.’ I think he’s never going to be ready for his little girl to grow up. But you do seem to be growing up.
You stretch me. You push me and pull me and twist me and, quite frankly, you confound me. You are not easy, but then, neither am I. Much to my dismay, you are more and more like me each day. There are days that I’m embarrassed by that and days when I’m quite proud of that. Depends on the day. Some day, you’ll have to determine for yourself which traits fall into which category.
But I can tell you this. You are strong and you are opinionated and you are loyal. I am proud of you. We recently had you tested and discovered that you have some fairly significant hearing loss (is that a result of your father’s heritage or of your prematurity?), and the doctor says it may affect your ability to process sounds and, thus, your ability to read. But, sweetie, you’re doing great. We are crazy proud of how well you’re doing in first grade.
You have made friends with the girls down the street, and it’s rare that you, Isabella and Bri-Bri aren’t together. I look forward to seeing the three of you grow up together. Griff, of course, gets a little tired of little girl giggles. I tell him that some day he won’t mind all of the girls in the house. He says that by that time, he’ll have moved out. He’s probably right. By then, it’ll just be you, me and your daddy.
Let’s see… what should you know about you at this moment in time? You are a little fashionista. You love to shop & you believe that fancy is appropriate all the time. However, you believe that brushing your teeth is appropriate only some of the time. Rarely, even. You are currently addicted to Barbie. Griff hates finding naked Barbies around the house, which makes you laugh, which makes your daddy and me laugh.
We’re currently taking turns reading the first Harry Potter book to you, and it’s fun to watch as we all seem to gather together regardless of who happens to be reading that night. You are such fun as you figure out that Hermione is the smart one of the three. May she inspire you.
We’ve begun attending church after forever of not, at your urging. Thank you for that. I told you, Eliza, you make us all better.
You make us laugh. You say the funniest things. When you aren’t throwing a horrible, crazy, dramatic fit, you are some of the most fun I’ve ever had. I think the two of us are going to have great fun together in the years to come.
We love you Eliza. Happy birthday, my precious.
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thursday blues…
It’s a week until Eliza’s sixth birthday. When I was in New Orleans a few weeks ago to spend the weekend with my friend (and webmaster extraordinaire!!), Aleece, she asked me if Eliza’s birth seemed more or less traumatic to me now. At the time, I told her that it seems like a weird dream… like it couldn’t really have happened the way it did, like it couldn’t have really been that bad (though Mike assures me it did and it was).
Turn out, it only seems that way until recently. Now, it’s not quite like that. This happens to me every year right before her birthday, so I don’t know why it caught me by surprise this year.
I’m having trouble sleeping this week, though so far I haven’t had the nightmares that I used to have about her, so that’s good. But I keep thinking about those days leading up to her birth and about my doctor and all of those emotions just come back. I’m all grateful and guilty and overwhelmed again. I know that by next Wednesday, I’ll just be grateful, but for now it’s a little much.
The kids I’m friends with at work (and they really are young enough to be called ‘kids’) were laughing and teasing me (not about this!), and I literally thought, “I have got to get some old lady friends.” They’re all too young to have had similar life experiences and so they don’t relate to what I’m doing or feeling.
I do miss being surrounded by people who know me well rather than by people who know me in a fleeting manner. It would make it easier for someone to remind me that while the week leading up to Eliza’s birth and the weeks immediately thereafter were really horrid, we did both survive.
And that’s something for which we are all very grateful.
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wordless wednesday - limes!
Eliza picked limes for me with Nana while Mike and I were in Chicago.
Tagged with: Eliza • limes • Wordless Wednesday
leaving …
As part of the training for the job I got the promotion for, I had a week of school here this week. I leave tomorrow morning for two weeks of training at the home office location. I’m not looking forward AT ALL to being away for that long, but it’s what I have to do. I’m going to try to post updates here from my phone. We’ll see how well that goes.
Until then, enjoy a photo of Eliza at her pre-K graduation.
Tagged with: Eliza • pre-K graduation • promotion
The lessons I learn on my lunch break…
In my house, I’m the only one going to work or school during the Christmas break. It’s not easy… for me or Mike. And poor Mike, Eliza’s been working on everyone’s last nerve lately.
Before I tell the whole story, you should know a few things…
In general, Mike and I are really easy parents. We’re generally honest with both kids. We’re generally laid back. We want home to be fun and happy and easy. We kinda roll with the punches. We don’t give the kids chores. I think they should help because they live here not because we offer them money. We don’t doll out harsh punishments. We never spank (do what you will… I’m not criticizing people’s choices, just saying that’s what our choice is).
And periodically, both kids push. They push those vague and shapeless limits and boundaries, and we lay down the law and no one likes it, and eventually whichever kid is in question shapes up & we go back to having fun. And sure, one theory is that we should just keep things strict and we wouldn’t have the pushing. But we’ll risk it.
So Eliza’s been pushing. Yesterday, I told her that if she could meet my criteria (without throwing a fit… minding me and Mike… generally being nice) for two entire days, she could have new bubbles. Baby has been asking for new bubbles for forever. If she can make it an entire week, we’ll take the kids to this fun zone thingy she wants to go to because her friend at school goes.
You with me? Here’s my actual story.
Since Mike’s here with pushy Eliza and video game Griff, I came home today for lunch just to give him a snippet of grown-up talk. He had asked Eliza to pick up the Clue sheets she had torn off the pad and strewn across the room. She wasn’t so much doing it, but she wasn’t throwing a fit, either.
She came and sat by me at the kitchen counter and we talked, and I asked her to go do that for her daddy. I reminded her of the bubbles. She slid off the kitchen stool and went into the front room and did as she was asked. I could hear her begin to whimper.
By the time she finished, she was crying. But it wasn’t that fit-throwing screaming angry cry. It was a calmer, more resigned cry. She curled up on the sofa, and I covered her with a blanket. I told her how proud I was of her, of how she made the right choice even though it was difficult. And before I left to return to work, I turned on Eliza shows and told her she could rest a while. (Mike later said she watched one show and popped up, happy as can be.)
As I drove back to work, I was thinking about how she learned a valuable lesson… and I realized that I did, too.
How many times do we have choices we know we need to make because they are - really and truly - the right choices for our lives? How many times have we felt like God was leading us in one direction when we wanted to go in another… or not go anywhere at all?
Our move here to Florida was so difficult (frankly, I wonder when I’m going to stop thinking that… if I’m being overly dramatic… I mean, Eliza’s not a drama queen by accident), and yet it was right for our family. Just like Eliza’s working toward new bubbles, I was working toward a life free of that unrelenting stress and hatred and fear that had begun to consume us.
And for a while I just screamed at God when I thought about it. But then, it became less of an angry cry and more of a pitiful whimper. The cry of acceptance, a cry of sad pain, the cry of choice.
This last year for me wasn’t one of screaming anger (2007 was so not my year), but one of whimpering sadness. I felt like I was so much stronger most days but then some days, I felt that cry of loneliness and missing well up inside of me. I’m hoping that 2008 was my year of lying on the sofa and accepting.
My hope… no, my prayer… is that 2009 is my year of hopping up and finding that happiness. Of course, that said, I still believe that happiness is fleeting. It’s why I’m chasing contentment.
Maybe, though, by chasing contentment, I will find that content is my definition of happy.
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