Dear Sadie,
Today you turn 3. Today is a big deal, because, not only is it the anniversary of your birth, but it is the anniversary of the day I became a mom. You are my first born child and you will always have a special place in my heart that is different than your siblings. I loved you before I knew you. I wanted to keep you when they told me I was going to lose you. And I am a stronger person for who you have demanded that I become.
You will always need me, more than most children need their mommies. And I will forever take care of you, speak for you, feed you and dress you, and fight for you. Before I had you I didn't know how to fight for something the way I do now. Because of you I have big, bulging mommy muscles. Because of you I have amazing friends. Because of you I have an appreciation for life and beauty like never before. Because of you I realize which things are silly to stress over or be sad about. Because of you, I am mom.
Sadie, today you're 3! You are growing up and learning more and more each day. You have ideas and opinions in that head of yours, and anybody who knows you knows how sassy and demanding you can be. You have turned into such a happy little girl. Even your teachers at school tell me all the time how happy you are. There was a time when I thought you'd never stop screaming, but now you never stop smiling.
You go to school now and your teachers are so proud of you and so impressed with everything you're learning. You play with the other kids in your class and even share toys with them. You are learning to communicate what you want, and you are learning to sit and use your hands to touch something or play with something. You are an amazing little person who is learning to overcome so much just to do basic things.
You are beautiful, and I am proud to be your mother. You are so loved, and that will never change.
Happy Birthday!
Love,
Mommy
Showing posts with label letters to Sadie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label letters to Sadie. Show all posts
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Sunday, December 23, 2012
I love you, Stinky Face
Dear Sadie,
Your great aunt Elisabeth bought you and Ezra a book for Christmas called I Love you, Stinky Face. It's about a little boy who asks his mom several different times if she would still love him if he were various "horrible" creatures. And she always does. I love this story because its such a great depiction of my love for you.
You are not a typical child, and some of the things I do for you, and will have to do for you in the future, are things that many others mothers don't have to do for their children. However, I don't love you any less for these things. Instead, I think they make our relationship special. I think they make me love you more, because you rely on me for so much.
In the book, the little boy asks his mother, "what if I was a dinosaur with sharp claws that shred my sheets at night when I sleep?" She tells him she'll mend his sheets everyday because, after all, it was an accident. This is how it is with us. So much of what you do that makes extra work for me is not on purpose. And even when I joke or complain about having to heave your wheelchair into the back of the van, even when I get frustrated because I have to wash your pee sheets everyday, even when you choke on your saliva and throw up your breakfast and I have to shower you off and wash everything, I still love you more than I could ever express with words. And I will never stop doing these things for you.
Another thing the boy asks his mom in the story is if she'd still love him even if he were a swamp monster who couldn't leave the swamp or he'll die. His mom tells him she'd just build a house at the swamp so she can be near him and take care of him. Sadie, you are probably not going to grow up and be independent and move out and go to college and get married and have your own children someday. But that's okay, because Daddy and I will always love you and take care of you wherever you are. And if we move to a smaller house once your siblings are grown up and gone, we'll make sure there's still room for you. And if we move to another country, we'll bring you with us. And if we're old and can't take care of you by ourselves anymore, we will make sure your siblings understand how special you are so that they can carry on our love in our absence.
Sadie, I know I tell you all the time, but I can't say it enough. I love you. I love your droolly face and your stinky butt. I love your little fists and your crazy hips. I love your smile and your beautiful hair. I love when you "talk" to me and when you try to give me kisses. You are my first-born, you made me a mom. Your light will shine in my heart forever and when you need me to shine it into the world for you, because they don't understand, I will...no matter how much extra work it is for me. Because, I love you, stinky face.
Love, Mama
PS. I loved when you helped me make Christmas cookies today!
Your great aunt Elisabeth bought you and Ezra a book for Christmas called I Love you, Stinky Face. It's about a little boy who asks his mom several different times if she would still love him if he were various "horrible" creatures. And she always does. I love this story because its such a great depiction of my love for you.
You are not a typical child, and some of the things I do for you, and will have to do for you in the future, are things that many others mothers don't have to do for their children. However, I don't love you any less for these things. Instead, I think they make our relationship special. I think they make me love you more, because you rely on me for so much.
In the book, the little boy asks his mother, "what if I was a dinosaur with sharp claws that shred my sheets at night when I sleep?" She tells him she'll mend his sheets everyday because, after all, it was an accident. This is how it is with us. So much of what you do that makes extra work for me is not on purpose. And even when I joke or complain about having to heave your wheelchair into the back of the van, even when I get frustrated because I have to wash your pee sheets everyday, even when you choke on your saliva and throw up your breakfast and I have to shower you off and wash everything, I still love you more than I could ever express with words. And I will never stop doing these things for you.
Another thing the boy asks his mom in the story is if she'd still love him even if he were a swamp monster who couldn't leave the swamp or he'll die. His mom tells him she'd just build a house at the swamp so she can be near him and take care of him. Sadie, you are probably not going to grow up and be independent and move out and go to college and get married and have your own children someday. But that's okay, because Daddy and I will always love you and take care of you wherever you are. And if we move to a smaller house once your siblings are grown up and gone, we'll make sure there's still room for you. And if we move to another country, we'll bring you with us. And if we're old and can't take care of you by ourselves anymore, we will make sure your siblings understand how special you are so that they can carry on our love in our absence.
Sadie, I know I tell you all the time, but I can't say it enough. I love you. I love your droolly face and your stinky butt. I love your little fists and your crazy hips. I love your smile and your beautiful hair. I love when you "talk" to me and when you try to give me kisses. You are my first-born, you made me a mom. Your light will shine in my heart forever and when you need me to shine it into the world for you, because they don't understand, I will...no matter how much extra work it is for me. Because, I love you, stinky face.
Love, Mama
PS. I loved when you helped me make Christmas cookies today!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Happy Mother's Day
We've been watching a lot of Sesame Street lately (okay, for over a year...) and this video made me smile. I thought it was a good Mother's Day post.
Dear Sadie,
You are almost 2 and a half on this Mother's Day and it's the first time you "made" me a Mother's Day gift. It's so sweet, even though I know you have no idea what is written on the back or what it even means, I know in my heart that you feel that way about me.
Even though you can't talk I know how much you love me, I can tell when your vision catches me walking across the room and you smile. I can tell when I go to get you out of bed in the morning and you giggle. I can tell when you're sad and I hold you and you calm down. You are the sweetest little girl and you've become such a happy kid.
I also know that I'm a good mom. Not because people tell me, but because I see it on your face. You are well fed. You feel good. You are clean. And I work hard to get you the therapy and the equipment you need. I know you are probably not even aware of everything I do for you, but I work hard to make sure you're well taken care of, that your schedules and routines are followed by whomever is taking care of you, and that you're fed and comfortable and happy.
You're an easy child right now (relatively speaking) because you're so easy to please. Giving you some toys that make noise, or playing a musical instrument with you lights up your whole face. You don't walk or crawl so I don't have to chase you around or make sure you're not eating the cat food. And you can't talk, so you don't really throw fits the way a normal 2 year old would. Instead you are learning to tell me (in your own way) to stop combing your tangly hair because it hurts, or that you aren't ready to get out of the bathtub yet, without losing control and getting too upset.
You are beautiful, especially that smile. Everybody knows it. I used to think I was biased because I thought you were so pretty, but now I realize that your beauty overshadows your disability. Even strangers, when we go out in public, fail to realize you're sitting in a wheelchair because all they seem to notice is your red curly hair and your long long eyelashes. Your beauty is so unique, and I know you love the attention you get from it. As you get older, more people will start to notice the beauty that is on the inside, so don't forget that your red hair and long eyelashes don't mean you are allowed to be a jerk.
Sadie, you are my first-born child. You made me a Mommy. You are my miracle and my angel from Heaven. I love you so much and I will do anything and everything for the rest of your life to make sure you are safe and your needs are met. You bring me so much joy. I can't wait for you to start going to school and making friends and sharing that joy with others you meet and interact with everyday. I can't wait for you to be a big sister, you have so much to teach your younger brother or sister. This child growing in my tummy has no idea how lucky they are to be born into our family.
I love you so much. I love you more than chocolate and popsicles and reading a good book. Happy Mother's Day 2012.
Love,
Mommy
Dear Sadie,
You are almost 2 and a half on this Mother's Day and it's the first time you "made" me a Mother's Day gift. It's so sweet, even though I know you have no idea what is written on the back or what it even means, I know in my heart that you feel that way about me.
I also know that I'm a good mom. Not because people tell me, but because I see it on your face. You are well fed. You feel good. You are clean. And I work hard to get you the therapy and the equipment you need. I know you are probably not even aware of everything I do for you, but I work hard to make sure you're well taken care of, that your schedules and routines are followed by whomever is taking care of you, and that you're fed and comfortable and happy.
You're an easy child right now (relatively speaking) because you're so easy to please. Giving you some toys that make noise, or playing a musical instrument with you lights up your whole face. You don't walk or crawl so I don't have to chase you around or make sure you're not eating the cat food. And you can't talk, so you don't really throw fits the way a normal 2 year old would. Instead you are learning to tell me (in your own way) to stop combing your tangly hair because it hurts, or that you aren't ready to get out of the bathtub yet, without losing control and getting too upset.
You are beautiful, especially that smile. Everybody knows it. I used to think I was biased because I thought you were so pretty, but now I realize that your beauty overshadows your disability. Even strangers, when we go out in public, fail to realize you're sitting in a wheelchair because all they seem to notice is your red curly hair and your long long eyelashes. Your beauty is so unique, and I know you love the attention you get from it. As you get older, more people will start to notice the beauty that is on the inside, so don't forget that your red hair and long eyelashes don't mean you are allowed to be a jerk.
Sadie, you are my first-born child. You made me a Mommy. You are my miracle and my angel from Heaven. I love you so much and I will do anything and everything for the rest of your life to make sure you are safe and your needs are met. You bring me so much joy. I can't wait for you to start going to school and making friends and sharing that joy with others you meet and interact with everyday. I can't wait for you to be a big sister, you have so much to teach your younger brother or sister. This child growing in my tummy has no idea how lucky they are to be born into our family.
I love you so much. I love you more than chocolate and popsicles and reading a good book. Happy Mother's Day 2012.
Love,
Mommy
Saturday, April 7, 2012
A letter to Sadie, my big girl
Dear Sadie,
You are the light of my life. I never imagined that I could love one little person as much as I love you. I can't kiss you enough, I can't squeeze you tight enough, I never get sick of looking at your pretty little face or running my fingers through your luscious curly red hair. And it makes me so happy to see you turning into such a big girl.
When you were born, I was sad. Things didn't happen like I expected. I didn't want you to be in pain. I wanted things to be easy and normal, but they weren't.
Then as you got older I was overwhelmed. You screamed in the car, you didn't sleep, your tummy hurt, you hated to be put down, you needed to be rocked and bounced day and night. You were a lot of work. You were still in pain somewhere and you couldn't tell me what hurt. You couldn't tell me what you needed, and I was sad that I didn't always know.
Then you started getting teeth and that hurt even more. You would wake up at night and cry in pain and there was nothing I could do for you to make it stop. When you love somebody as much as I love you, it hurts when you see them hurt, especially when you feel helpless to help them.
But now you're two and you've suddenly turned into a big girl. You sleep all night, you're happy all day, you clearly communicate when you're unhappy without losing control. You ride in the car without screaming, and you are content "playing" with your toys by yourself while Mommy takes a nap. You don't need to be rocked all day. Your tummy doesn't hurt anymore. And even though you're still getting those molars, you seem to be able to manage your own pain better.
You are fun to be around. You are learning so much and I love your big smile when you realize you've found something you like.
Some people might look at you and think you're imperfect because your brain doesn't work the same as theirs, but when I look at you I see the perfect little girl that God meant for me and Daddy to have. I used to wish you were different, that you didn't have the special needs that you have, but now I know better. You were made especially for me, I was meant to be your mommy, and you were meant to be the child that made me a mommy.
I have learned so much from you already in your short life. I've learned to be strong and not give up. I've learned that if something hurts or you need help, keep telling people until you get that need met. I've learned that it's okay to ask for help when you need it, and to find enjoyment in even the smallest achievements. Your life has opened my eyes to a whole new world that I didn't even know existed and I have met amazing and wonderful doctors, therapists, and other special needs moms because of you, people I now can't imagine our life without.
I used to wonder what life would be like if you weren't born the way you were, but now I don't even think about it. I don't want you to be different. You are my little blessing just the way you are.
As you grow up, don't ever let anybody make you feel inadequate, or like you're less than enough. You are just the way God made you, and God doesn't make mistakes. And you can do whatever you want to do. You can be as independent as you want to be. Don't ever let anyone make you feel ugly. You are one of the most beautiful children I have ever seen (and I'm not just saying that because I'm your mom), and your pure heart and your innocence only make you more beautiful. Don't ever let anyone make you feel stupid. You are smart. It doesn't matter if you can't walk or can't talk or you don't eat like other people do, those are not reflections of your intelligence. I know that that brain is working hard right now to learn and that if you could, you'd talk my ear off. Someday we'll find a way to help you express yourself and then I won't be the only person that can understand when you tell me you love me.
I can't wait to see you grow up even more. I can't wait for you to reveal more about your personality, to see what kind of big sister you're going to be, to learn how independent you can be. I can't wait for you to "find your voice." I can't wait to see where your talents lie. I am eager to see you do things that we've dreamed of since you were born.
I love you so much, my big girl. I know that you know that, and I hope that you never forget it.
Love,
Mommy
I linked this up with...
You are the light of my life. I never imagined that I could love one little person as much as I love you. I can't kiss you enough, I can't squeeze you tight enough, I never get sick of looking at your pretty little face or running my fingers through your luscious curly red hair. And it makes me so happy to see you turning into such a big girl.
When you were born, I was sad. Things didn't happen like I expected. I didn't want you to be in pain. I wanted things to be easy and normal, but they weren't.
Then as you got older I was overwhelmed. You screamed in the car, you didn't sleep, your tummy hurt, you hated to be put down, you needed to be rocked and bounced day and night. You were a lot of work. You were still in pain somewhere and you couldn't tell me what hurt. You couldn't tell me what you needed, and I was sad that I didn't always know.
Then you started getting teeth and that hurt even more. You would wake up at night and cry in pain and there was nothing I could do for you to make it stop. When you love somebody as much as I love you, it hurts when you see them hurt, especially when you feel helpless to help them.
But now you're two and you've suddenly turned into a big girl. You sleep all night, you're happy all day, you clearly communicate when you're unhappy without losing control. You ride in the car without screaming, and you are content "playing" with your toys by yourself while Mommy takes a nap. You don't need to be rocked all day. Your tummy doesn't hurt anymore. And even though you're still getting those molars, you seem to be able to manage your own pain better.
You are fun to be around. You are learning so much and I love your big smile when you realize you've found something you like.
Some people might look at you and think you're imperfect because your brain doesn't work the same as theirs, but when I look at you I see the perfect little girl that God meant for me and Daddy to have. I used to wish you were different, that you didn't have the special needs that you have, but now I know better. You were made especially for me, I was meant to be your mommy, and you were meant to be the child that made me a mommy.
I have learned so much from you already in your short life. I've learned to be strong and not give up. I've learned that if something hurts or you need help, keep telling people until you get that need met. I've learned that it's okay to ask for help when you need it, and to find enjoyment in even the smallest achievements. Your life has opened my eyes to a whole new world that I didn't even know existed and I have met amazing and wonderful doctors, therapists, and other special needs moms because of you, people I now can't imagine our life without.
I used to wonder what life would be like if you weren't born the way you were, but now I don't even think about it. I don't want you to be different. You are my little blessing just the way you are.
As you grow up, don't ever let anybody make you feel inadequate, or like you're less than enough. You are just the way God made you, and God doesn't make mistakes. And you can do whatever you want to do. You can be as independent as you want to be. Don't ever let anyone make you feel ugly. You are one of the most beautiful children I have ever seen (and I'm not just saying that because I'm your mom), and your pure heart and your innocence only make you more beautiful. Don't ever let anyone make you feel stupid. You are smart. It doesn't matter if you can't walk or can't talk or you don't eat like other people do, those are not reflections of your intelligence. I know that that brain is working hard right now to learn and that if you could, you'd talk my ear off. Someday we'll find a way to help you express yourself and then I won't be the only person that can understand when you tell me you love me.
I can't wait to see you grow up even more. I can't wait for you to reveal more about your personality, to see what kind of big sister you're going to be, to learn how independent you can be. I can't wait for you to "find your voice." I can't wait to see where your talents lie. I am eager to see you do things that we've dreamed of since you were born.
I love you so much, my big girl. I know that you know that, and I hope that you never forget it.
Love,
Mommy
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