Category: Dear Alice

February 21st, 2019

2/21/2019

Dear Alice,

It's been a couple months since my last letter. I had hoped things would be better by now, but we're ALL struggling. Last week I got to hold you in the pink chair at bedtime (how are you the size of an actual kid already??!) and when we finished singing you burst into tears, turned your head to my chest and begged, “mama never let me go!” For a moment I just stopped breathing. Because I am shattered. From exhaustion. From poor, poor screamy baby that no one seems to be able to help. From the garage burning down and our stupid neighbor trying to stop the rebuild. But mostly from you and your valiant attempts to be brave and adaptable on a daily basis in the midst of this total chaos and stress. I just don't know where we got such an amazing kid (kid!! Again, when did you become a kid!?). I had to feed you some crap about how I know things are hard right now but they'll get better and we'll have lots of nuggles the next day… I mean really, was I fooling either of us??

And then tonight happened. I had you curl up with a blanket and your bunnies while we waited for Dada to shower so I could nurse Alafair and sing to you both. I looked down to see this:

And I shattered again (how is this even possible??). Because I've been singing, “One night I was dreaming/I had a baby/I was holding you in my arms/when I woke dear/I was mistaken/so I hung my head and cried,” to you since before you were born. It's the second verse to “You Are My Sunshine” of course, and I've always equated it with the long, long wait we had for your arrival. But now here we are, somehow, impossibly, on the fast approach to your 4th birthday, and you are a baby no more.

There you were, snuggling my foot (this is what we've been reduced to), making every attempt to avoid being weepy that you've been relegated to the floor while I hold another in my arms, AND managing to smile at me!! My God. I don't know how to manage love this fierce. I want to scoop you up and just never let go. And incorporating this new love into our lives has been harder than ANYTHING I've ever imagined. I actually know that we're doing the best we can right now. Stepping back to look at the big picture, we're mostly okay. But that doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm failing you in a million tiny ways every day. One day, a long time from now, you might understand. I hope you feel the ferocity of my love in the meantime. My sweet sweet girl, “You are my Sunshine, please don't take my Alice away.”

Love, Mama

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New Year's Reflections

12/28/2018

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Dear Alice

It's been a while since I wrote you a letter. A LOT has happened this year. We spent the first couple months in New Orleans and attended our first Mardi Gras together. It's an experience that will likely get pushed to the back of your mind in some vague childhood memory, but one I'll never forget.

While we were there we found out that your new baby sister was finally on her way (in fact, there she is in most of those pictures up there!), which set the tone for the rest of the year--unfortunately not the best tone as I was so sick the entire pregnancy. And that's the part I find myself reflecting on as we approach the New Year.

Having a sick mama who laid around all the time was really hard for you. Luckily for me, you are the World's Awesomest Kid and would read to me or play around me while I just laid on the floor waiting for Dada to come home from work. And even though I could see that it freaked you out a little bit, you put on a brave face and carried on with life.

My sweet sweet girl. One day you will know that this whole thing has been so much harder on me than you. I had hoped things would get better after Alafair was born, but good God, it's been the most difficult 3 months of my life.

I grieve the fact that I've not been my best self with you for nearly a third of your life. It. Kills. Me. I miss you and our everyday life that we had. When you say wistfully, “Mama, remember when we used to eat lunch together?” I curl up and die inside. Tonight I sang you two songs for bedtime while Dada held a screaming Alafair in the next room waiting for me to come feed her. I tried desperately not to rush our precious time together but it's so hard when there's a screaming baby. And you asked, as you do every night, when I could sleep with you again. I haven't told you the truth, that it will likely be a couple years and by then you will be well out of this sweet small child phase of life and not interested in such things. I barely made it out of your room before bursting into tears because I miss you so much. What I wouldn't give to have stayed curled up right there with you in my arms until I could feel your breathing slow and soften with sleep. What I'm saying is this adjustment is hard. When we finally regain our equilibrium one day, I hope we will look back together and say, that was the hardest time, but it now it is so much better. We will wonder how we ever had a life without our sweet new baby.

Here's to new beginnings in a New Year. And here's the last photo I took of you as an only child, two days before Alafair was born. Having you around is like having my own personal sprite.

Love, Mama

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Dun Dun DUN!

9/1/2018

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Dear Alice,

Just a short followup to our Target Meltdown post from earlier this summer. Without totally jinxing myself, I think it's only fair to admit that we've since learned of some extenuating circumstances.

Sometime this spring your doctor recommended starting you on Flonase nasal spray to help with your allergies and constant skin rashes. We did it for about two and a half months before something finally clicked in my brain and I started to suspect just what was going on.

During that time, you STOPPED eating. This by itself was HUGE. You are the world's best eater. You LOVE food. We've worked so hard at cultivating good eating habits and then one day, BOOM, it was all gone. I couldn't believe what was happening. I tried everything I could think of to get us back on track, to no avail. And the worst part was that everyone I talked to about it kept telling me that it was typical of a 3 year old.

Meanwhile some other weird stuff was going on, but again...maybe you are just 3? Lots of tantrums (for you), and it was taking HOURS for you to fall asleep at night. Then the nights started to get even worse. We would go to bed and you'd constantly kick your legs. I Googled "can toddlers have restless leg syndrome?" and went down a rabbit hole of WEIRD.

The short of this story is that I discovered Flonase is a steroid with lots of officially undocumented side effects, such as restless leg, behavioral changes in children, and....a sort of soapy sour taste in your mouth! WHA....???!!!!!

Within days of quitting, everything started to go back to normal, including your awesome eating habits. And (knock on wood) you haven't had another tantrum since. The only drawback is I haven't figured out a better treatment for your allergies, so for now, you suffer. :(

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June 25th, 2018

6/25/2018

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Dear Sugarbean,

Wow. Today was A Day. You are profoundly 3 years old. It is simultaneously an utter delight and a train wreck. There is no middle ground for you these days. Luckily, the tantrums are usually easy to predict (tired, hungry, and have been on your best behavior for days and just can't take it any more) and they don't happen every day. Today we pushed too far though and both paid the price in Target.

I probably shouldn't post these pictures, but... I'm thinking that you seeing these in the future can't possibly be any more embarrassing than it was today as I stood in the bathroom aisle patiently (at least outwardly) waiting while you kicked and screamed for nearly TWENTY WHOLE MINUTES. That sounds like I'm keeping score, but I'm not. I felt genuinely bad for you. We've had company here, upsetting our routine, for weeks and you just rolled with it. You fell down this morning HARD and scraped both your hands, knees, and elbow. There's a new baby on the horizon and you don't know why, but you are STRESSED. I get it. I would have loved to scoop you up and hold you tight, but you were not interested.

We both thought you were finally calmed down after that and tried to move on with life, but we were wrong and soon you were at it again. This time, I decided to cut our loses and leave, which involved you kicking and screaming your way to the front of the store, through the checkout line, and across the parking lot.* Total strangers were mercifully kind to me and offered sympathy and encouragement. THANK YOU, KIND STRANGERS. THANK YOU.

We spent another 20 or so minutes burning out the fire in the parking lot.

Then, while sitting on the curb in the 90 degree heat, you crawled into my lap and asked me to sing. We both needed the love at that point.

Here's the thing. When we finally made it home and I burst into tears at lunch, you said, "Do you need Apice, Mama? Apice knows your sorrows." You are so kind and I love you so much.

And because I'm emotionally spent and 6 months pregnant in the height of summer, I fed you leftover chocolate chip pancakes (which you insisted on dipping ketchup), mac and cheese, and Lays potato chips for dinner. We both survived the day though, so I'm calling it a win.

*Why not just abandon the cart and run, mama? Because at this point leaving without my stuff would have meant suffering for nothing!

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February 21st, 2019

New Year's Reflections

Dun Dun DUN!

June 25th, 2018

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