A Letter to My Kids
Before I get to this letter, there are some things I want to say. I’ve never been the type of blogger who wrote an open letter to her kids. Maybe I didn’t have the words. Or maybe I needed the distance between parenting little kids to where I am now. Whatever the reason, today, thank you for allowing me to be that type of blogger…
Where have the years gone. It’s hard for me to believe that I have been a mother for more than a dozen years now.
Once you relied on me for everything, now you are capable of so much on your own. I see it in our interactions. Our relationship has deepened.
I want you to know you are not just like me or just like your father; you are your own person. It’s not that I’m not profoundly proud of the bits of me that I see in you, it’s that you have your own experiences and thoughts and feelings. I want you to know this is okay. It’s more than okay, it’s exactly as it should be.
I think about mothers in movies who tell their children, “I just want you to be happy.” I think happiness is nice and a worthwhile pursuit. But what I want more for you than anything else, is for you to know, deep down in your bones, that you are loved. Children, you are worthy of being loved and you are loved. No matter if we argue, no matter if we yell, no matter the mistakes we make, or the disagreements we have, you are loved.
I don’t know that I believe in fate, choosing our paths, or plans bigger than us, but if I’m wrong, and I’m open to that possibility, and you had any choice in the matter, thank you for choosing me to go on this journey with you.