Letters To My BabbyDaddy :: Talk To Me

Hey Love.

I love translating you for others, too
#appleBOTTOMjeans

My handsome, handsome love.  Particularly now with the mustache and soul patch facial-hair-that-shall-not-be-named G-O-N-E gone.  We decorated the tree last night, and you actually participated.  You've been actually participating a lot lately, and I find myself wanting to grab ahold of those moments and just squeeze them until I've made sure to get all of the specialness out of them.  But that's not what you're supposed to do with moments like that.  I know this, but I forget.  You're teaching me, by example, to just enjoy them.  Notice them.  Then keep right on living, so that you can have more moments.  

When we talk, even just on the phone for a "hey where are you at okay I'll be back soon" type of chat, I notice that we have our own language.  We've got our own names, like puddin' and handsome, sweet thang and donny, but there's more than that.  Over our years, it seems we've developed our own special blend of north & south speak, melded together with insider information.  Its not abnormal to hear "Grab some pop while you're at the store, eh?" and "dadgum, this youngin' is trying to eat the sweeper".  I like to fancy that we'd be an anomaly to language investigators, were they to watch us.

Then we've got the whole who-needs-to-say-a-whole-sentence thing going on, which makes me feel like we're jiving as nothing else can.  A simple "Hey Mariah, where's the..." followed by "In the basement, back right closet shelf" can find the paper towels without any previous conversation.  It doesn't always happen like magic, but its enough to know that I know you.  

I love knowing you.

Talk to you soon.

<3 M.

Letters To My BabyDaddy :: Travel Warriors

My love.

I would call you tonight and tell you this, except we left your phone in PA.  And by we, I obviously mean that I did.  But you didn't blame me.  Because you're a team player like that. 

And just like the team player that you are, you drove us South for over 13 hours straight yesterday.  We made it, we survived our road trip.  If its all the same to you, I'd prefer to never need to survive that road trip again, because I'd prefer to never attempt it again.  But if I have to attempt it, I'd rather do it with you than with anyone else.

We're different, you and I.  These differences that once seemed small, even unnoticeable  are being brought to light daily as we learn to parent together.  I'm more high-strung  you're more laid back.  I'm more intentional, you're more "go with the flow".  We complement each other, although we sometimes forget to compliment each other.  Without you, well, we both know what a mess I'd be.  And we also both know that you'd fall apart without me (phone retention skills aside).    

So instead of calling you and telling you how much I'm in love with you and that I miss you like madness, I'm writing it on here, for all the world (except you) to read.  Thank you, my love, for all of the ways you play for the team and not for the individual glory.  Thank you, that do not go after selfish ambition or vain conceit, but instead put others before yourself.  This is a learning experience.  You're so skilled at things that I often forget that you're trying to figure out this parenting-as-a-couple thing the same as I am.  So with my thanks, I want to remember to offer you grace, to give you room to learn and improve, as you've given me.  

I love you, D-mag.  For a million and 7 reasons.  For the record, number 1,000,002 is that you didn't once ask me to drive yesterday.  xxooxo

<3 M.

Letters to My Babydaddy :: My Champion

Dear Babydaddy,

I know that it has been more difficult than we thought it would be.  I know that I'm more difficult than you thought I would be.  But you've been a champion.  My champion, to be exact.  Like when I'm tired but I just keep trying, and you pull me close and tell me that I'm such a good mom.  Or when you keep baby so I can have a blissful 20 minutes alone at the grocery store.  But you're especially awesome when I tell you that I feel like I don't know when I'm doing.  That's when you really came through.  Because you didn't commiserate, you didn't just pat me on the back or say "that's okay".  You told me I was wrong.  You pointed out the ways that I do know what I'm doing, the times when I do know how to take care of our Bambina.  That encouragement, that affirmation, it was gold, honey.  You. complete. me.  

The fact that you talk about baby #2 without hesitation makes me think that you're a little bit crazy, but I'll keep you.

<3 M.