My daughter turns two this week.
She is my second born baby, first girl and most likely my last child.
She wakes up every morning as if she knows our days are numbered and she intends to savor every second. That is also to say, she is a slow starter when we wake her. She opens her eyes and stretches slowly, sometimes asks us to let her sleep in by pulling her blanket back over her head. As the day carries on her movements may accelerate, but she is still intentional in her observations. She looks around at every single thing she passes to make sure she does not miss an opportunity to gawk at it’s beauty, whether it’s the sunset on an evening walk or a sock sitting on the floor of the living room. Nothing is too little to capture her attention. You know the phrase, “stop and smell the roses”? Emma actually stops for every flower she passes to smell them. She says hello to every animal she passes and tries to read every book she comes across.
I look at her and often think, “ I hope I am like her when I grow up.”
My mother was never able to teach me certain things, although she tried to warn me often. I had to experience them for myself to learn the lessons. And it was always the lessons that stripped me down to my core that I had to learn alone.
Cutting my own hair.
Not believing someone when they showed me who they were through their actions.
Friendship break ups.
The repercussions of my actions when I didn’t move in honesty.
My mom couldn’t just tell me about these things. I had to experience them. Even when she saw a situation coming from a mile away, my adolescent self never really thought it would come to fruition. I always assumed she was being dramatic. I thought I could look at her mistakes and do better. I thought I knew better. But you don’t know until you know.
There are things I will never be able to teach Emma, although I will desperately want to. I am raising her in a world that is constantly changing. She will go through situations I may never even know about or have experienced. She will feel her first heartbreak. She will give someone more chances than they deserve. She will probably cut her own hair. She will fall down and scrape her knee and there is nothing I can do besides teach her how to clean and tend to her wound. I can’t shield her from the pain that comes along with being human. I can do my best to prepare her. I can stand beside her or behind her, but I cannot stand in front of her as a guard for those moments she has to face on her own.
I still find myself calling my mom for help quite often.
I really need a babysitter.
How do I cook Spanish rice exactly like you?
What do you add to your banana bread to make it less dense?
I am so upset.
When did you put me in swimming lessons?
And the tables have turned in the recent years,
receiving calls from her with questions about things she is still figuring out as well.
As I get older I am learning that she still has lessons to teach me. And with every passing year I am more and more open to listening and learning.
I am in the throws of toddler years right now, which is full of milestones and growing up. I am teaching these kids how to brush their teeth and put on their shoes. They are teaching me patience and that repeating myself is really not that serious. Every day there are multiple lessons being taught and learned just from us living our lives.
As my own girl grows, there are things I hope I will get to teach her.
How to braid her hair.
The best substitutes for boxed cake.
When it is worth it to splurge.
And yet - there are things that I am still trying to learn myself.
How to show up authentically and unapologetically.
The best recipes for Mexican dishes.
When it is time to walk away.
I hope that as Emma grows, she sees that her mom never stopped growing either.
And that some day, when she calls me to ask about whatever is on her mind, we are both ready to learn from each other.
I look forward to growing up beside her.
Thank you for reading!
We are currently in the midst of birthdays, weddings, graduations and baby showers and I could not be happier. I love this season of celebrating people and I hope whatever season you are in is serving you.
You are so loved!
Alejandrea,
Your expression of words capture my attention. I love reading your stories as it takes me into your world. I love how you love your family and how close you all are. I wish I knew you better and we were closer cousins so that I could be there for you and help you in any way. You may not know but I love you very much!
I look forward to reading more of your writings.
Sincerely,
Cousin Sylvia