One day...I will tell you all about boys, sex, your developing body, who to trust and who not to trust and why; how to manage your money (not that I've really learned that one yet; perhaps we'll learn that together!); all about life before you and funny stories about your sisters; how much I love your daddy; I'll tell you about your Grammy and your Grandpa who died way before their time and before they could get to know and love you; I'll tell you about growing up in California; drugs & smoking; we'll talk about ignoring the media and that your body is wonderfully crafted by God no matter what flaws you think you may have; we'll talk about funny shows, movies and good music; I'll take you to your first concert because that's what I did with your sisters. I just hope this time the artist will be better than Paula Abdul and Christina Aguilera. I'll tell you about how me and your dad met; about pets we had that you never knew; I'll tell you about God and how much you're a child of the universe and loved beyond belief; I'll tell you about your crazy Grandma and your Aunt Jenny (and beware, because they are C-R-A-Z-Y); I'll try to explain math to you but my advice would be to talk to one of your sisters. I may be a financial analyst, but don't be fooled by titles. We'll talk about college, and birth control; and how to drive safely; we'll fight over your clothes, the piercings you want, and we'll argue when I think it's time you get off your ass and get a job. We'll argue about the junk food you'll consume when you're a teenager. We'll argue over "designer" clothes versus "sale" clothes. When I get extremely tired of you and your attitude, I'll send you to your Auntie Paula's for the weekend. We'll argue about redecorating your room; throwing out old toys and clothes, and I'll forgive you every time you look at me with sheer disgust in your eyes and say, "I hate you and I hope I'm never anything like you when I grow up."
But for now, I relish in our cuddling, our tickling, the funny way you pronounce words, all your innocent goodness, I love to watch you sleep; I even love your bad morning breath because it's yours. I love surprising you with little things; I love that you are a little daredevil; I love that you are sweet and kind to people and give out lots of hugs; I love you even when you are so bad I could throw you across the room; I love when you deliberately disobey because you are developing your little personality; I love how you laugh at your own farts (and other people's too!); I love shopping with you; taking you to see Santa and the Easter Bunny. Basically, I love you so much it brings tears to my eyes at least 2 to 3 times a week. So, even though we have all those other things to look forward to in the future, I know from experience that these precious years go by all too quickly. You're my one and only little Beana.
Love, Mommy Fatima
5 comments:
Hey, Christina Aguilera rocked! Ha! Ha! I think you should take Riley to see Better Than Ezra for her first concert! :)
Am. Not. Crazy.
You're a grown woman whose favorite movie is Lilo & Stitch, and you're afraid of little people for no apparent reason - you don't even like those little corns, because, well they're little. Yes. You are crazy. :)
It's not my FAVORITE although yes, I do have an unusual fondness for it. And dude. Tattoo? TATTOO? He still haunts me.
recent conversation I had with Mark:
M: I was never allowed to sleep with my parents.
A: No?
M: No
A: What about when you were scared?
M: I slept on the floor next to their bed.
A: That's terrible!
M: What did YOU do?
A: Slept with my sister.
pause
A: She hated it.
I didn't hate it. I actually loved cuddling with you. I only told you I hated it. Has it truly taken almost 34 years for you to understand how this family dynamic works? Keeping you muddled and confused is exhausting work; no wonder I'm in therapy.
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