Tomorrow she turns eight.
I can’t stop with the photos. I love all of her pieces.
It’s not always this beautiful. It’s hard raising Jessica. She is complete joy but so wound up. She doesn’t deal with change (or when things don’t go EXACTLY as she expects) well. At all. She cries almost every day, which really is more of a tantrum. Sometimes we feel just as out of control as she acts. Raising our daughter is exhausting. Of course I want great things for her – I want her to be able to trust herself as much as she’ll trust others. I want her to accept her talents and shine through whatever obstacle might come her way.
I try to get in her head, to understand what’s going on in there, but she doesn’t often let me in. And honestly some days I don’t try very hard either. Engaging with my kids is one of the most difficult things for me to do, it’s very vulnerable. I will give them everything else, but somedays it’s too much to really give them me.
Am I the worst parent for just admitting that? It’s the black and white truth of what goes on for me. This is hard. The baby stuff, God, that was beautiful. It was joyful (tiring) and beyond sublime. It was really the magic of our lives but I know it didn’t disappear.
We just have to rediscover the glitter. We have to find each other’s voices in the noise of life and strain against the pull to drown out the whisper of distractions.
My heart breaks for her (not in a pitiful way) but in the parental way – when you see them growing up and your heart literally can’t hold the emotion. It bursts. She is a super nova of life, filling the world around her with laughter and playful ideas.
I’m not the same mom I was 8 years ago today and she, also, isn’t the same infant. Both growing women, learning how to live. How to respect ourselves and the world around us. How to dream our dreams and contribute to life. How to be ourselves, together.
Happy Birthday, Jessica Ranae.
We’ll get there. You’re already on your way.