Sooner or Later…

Happy Birthday Dear Grits…

Happy Birthday to you…

I promised myself that I would not be my mother.  I would take the time to build sand castles, chase butterflies, and pick flowers.  I would memorize you.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I dragged you along with me into my world.  I tucked your 4 month old self into a baby bike carrier, surrounded you with layers of blankets, carefully tied an antique baby poke-bonnet on your head, and took you bike riding.  I was scolded and head-shaked.  And you slept…

I put spoons and cups on your walker tray to play with while I frantically washed dishes/cooked meals/tried to clean house.  And you laughed…

When you wanted to help I gave you flour to push around, sinks full of bubbles, cookie dough and cutters, lighter fluid and matches.  And you made a mess…

Eventually I decided that barbies were not for grownups and sent you off to play by yourself and, in the course of time, with brothers.  You climbed trees and got your brother up there too.  You rode trikes, bikes, and dump trucks.  You skinned your knees…and your brother’s too…

Somewhere along the line I learned not to mourn the lost sand castles and butterflies because raising you was not about creating your childhood, but giving you the opportunity to create your own.  A childhood where little girls were protected from trashy clothes, scary movies, and vulgar ways.  You built your own castles, chased your own butterflies, picked your own flowers dreamed your own dreams.  And you shared them with me…

Thank you.  And I love you…

About one week old…

Sleepy about two weeks…

More two weeks.  Guess who needs the nap…

Two months old…

Five years old and the first day of kindergarden…

Fifteen at the St. Louis Zoo…

Grits & Fyah Christmas Eve 2000…

Games at Nikos’ party 2002…

Eighteenth birthday…

Graduation day… 

Wedding Day…

The entire family…

Kisses from kisses 2006…

On to the real baby 2007…

And when did my mother’s voice start coming from under my nose?