Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Letters to Lillie: Why, child, why?

Dearest Lillie,

While I fully appreciate the love and affection you have for me, there is absolutely no need to showcase this by waking up at 2am to "talk" with me. Yes, yes, I know I encourage our conversations by talking back, singing horribly and making silly faces. But this is much more appropriate between the hours of 7am and 9pm, when I am fully functioning. Outside of these hours, I cannot and will not be held responsible for the emotions/actions that escape me.

You should be fully aware of this, seeing as I once changed you during the night only to discover in the morning that I had left the dirty diaper still enclosed in your zipped up jammies. Had you not learned your lesson from this incident? Or how about the time I laid on the floor next to your bouncy chair simultaneously crying and laughing in huge granny panties, a milk-soaked shirt and unwashed 2 day old hair because I simply could not figure out what your problem was?

Child, you give me so much hope when you sleep through the night for consecutive days. So why do you have to throw this 2am wrench into my REM cycle - ruining my Glee infested fantasy dream? Do you not understand my love of all things musical? You should. You were forced to listen to ridiculous music and an even more ridiculous singing voice for 10 months. Is this why you do it? Revenge?

So, again, I love that you want to tell me things! I do! But if you want me at the top of my game, 2 am is not the time to do so.

I'd appreciate your cooperation in the future. Also, using your precious toothless smile against me is just plain evil. I'm assuming you've learned this behavior from your father. I'll be having a talk with him soon as well.



Friday, February 11, 2011

Red Rover, Red Rover

I can feel it. The adrenaline. It's racing through me. Up from my feet that are so firmly rooted into the ground I feel like I'm the biggest oak tree in the forest to the tips of fingers that are being slowly crushed at the anticipation of what is coming at me. 

I make eye contact with Susie, we see what's about to happen. He thinks we're the weakest link. We know he's going to be coming right at us. Dirt clouds rise from underneath his sneakers as he propels himself forward. It's almost as if it's in slow motion. He's 10 feet away. 8. 5. 3 feet now. I exhale and squeeze Susie's hand harder than ever before. My eyes close, my teeth are clenched and I send up a silent prayer to the recess gods that we won't become the broken links in this human rubber band.

As a kid, one game I loved playing was Red Rover. I wasn't amazing at it but that was the great thing about Red Rover - you didn't have to be great. All you had to do was run at a couple of outstretched arms and hope that you picked the weakest link. Simple game. Simple fun. Ahh, those were the days. The days of flashing sneakers, permed hair and following the ice cream man around on your bicycle.

I always seem to go back to that time whenever I see a couple holding hands in public. To run full speed at them just to see if they break hands so that I can relive a few moments of my childhood. I always wonder if they'd hold their hands tight, or if they'd let loose? What if Red Rover was an analogy to our relationships in life - if something comes running at you are you going to hold on to the ones you love or let them slip away? 

I definitely think I'd try and hold on. We lose so much in life already - in our job, in our own selfish world, in the past - to just let go with no promise you'll have enough will or want to reach back for that hand. 

And for me, letting go because some crazy chick running at me in the middle of the mall screaming "Red Rover Red Rover Let Tamara come over!" just isn't worth it. And who knows, by holding on you may learn things about yourself you never knew.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

A Conversation

10 years ago I was ready to get out of my hometown and make my mark in this world.  I just knew exactly where my life was going and how I was going to get there.

6 years ago I bought a dress, and in that dress I became a wife to a man who has made one helluva husband. I had no idea where my life was going and I was okay with it, I knew I'd get to where I was going when I needed too.

5 years ago we were constantly surrounded by friends and parties and had little to worry about other than a car payment and making it to work on time. We would spontaneously head to Galveston for the weekend with no plans other than probably having to sleep in the truck - we had life in abundance.

2 years ago I was counting down the days till graduation and simultaneously dreading it for fear of losing the great friendships I had made. I was worried I wouldn't be able to find a better job, but didn't want to leave the safety of my current one. Alfred and I began to truly enjoy our lifestyle and often would end the day sitting on the back porch with a 6-pack and some country music in the background.

1 year ago I was thoroughly convinced my uterus hated me because I wasn't pregnant. My best friend was getting married (I had a kickass dress to wear!) and I finally fit into a pair of skinny jeans without feeling like a buttered up walrus in a scuba suit.

And less than 24 hours ago, I had one of the best conversations of my life. 

I have to admit, that while I miss moment's from my past and dwell on them during 5:30am feedings (too late to go back to bed and too early to get a good foot on the day!) if I had the option to go back - no way in hell would I. 

Lillie makes my now so much better than my then could have ever hoped to be.