One

My big girl, Ruby,

Last week you turned one. Wow. Let that sink in a moment. You lived 365 days on this rotating earth and now I no longer describe your age in months, now I say "year." I have a daughter who is 1 year old.... Nope, still doesn't really sink in. How quickly this delicous, snuggly year has gone by!

You spent your first birthday with influenza, which you caught the week before. The day of your birthday was the last day you had a fever with your illness and you were not in the best mood to be celebrating. Grandma and Grandpa came to see you on your special day and we had a quiet celebration together. I had ordered a cake and cupcakes to share with daycare but you were out of daycare the whole week of your birthday. So we had cake with G&G and you were not impressed with the cake.... or your dinner... or your bottle... or anything, really. I want to have a birthday party for you, but between the illness we both had and the -30 degree weather, it has been tough to plan. But I still hope to soon and hope you don't mind if mama is a little late planning things. That is something you will have to get used to about me - my sense of time is a bit skewed.

At one year old, you are an adventurer. This was something I could never imagine from my sweet, quiet Ruby who at 3 months sat contentedly for hours in her bouncy seat. Now, you are rarely content, you are very busy exploring anything within reach, and often times anything and everything out of reach. Your crawl can only be described as ferocious, in speed and determination. You walk along furniture and fall to your bottom heavily when you decide you can get places faster on hands and knees. You have a huge curiosity and are often somewhat gruff. You babble so sure of yourself that I know that you know what you are saying, I just don't know what you are saying. You announce each syllable with such suredness. Yet, when I ask you to say phrases or words that I know you can say, you are suddenly hesitant and sometimes bashful. I ask you what a monkey says and you tuck your chin to your chest and give a shy smile, "ha ha ha." You love books and bath time and sucking on my hair. You dislike using a sippy cup, having your hair washed, and being alone. You are very no-nonsense and pretty much the polar opposite of the baby you were at 4 or 5 months. Your determination and stubbornness have baffled me and I have had to start disciplining you far earlier than I could have ever imagined. To my dismay, your reaction to "no" is to just smile and continue on your merry way. (I am going to have to read those toddler books SOON.) I could not be more surprised or delighted with the little girl (gulp!) you've become.

Today you had your 1 year appointment with your pediatrician and you are 22.4 pounds and 29.5 inches tall. I have raised a child! I can't look at you these days without thinking that you are no longer a baby, that my preemie is now a toddler, and the thought of this swells my heart so big with pride and tears that I cannot contain it. I'm so happy to see you grow up and so sad that it's happening so fast.

The last few months have held quite a few challenges for you and I. We've been trying to get you on a good, steady rhythm of sleep - to no avail. You have cut 4 teeth so far, and we've endured the stomach flu, ear infections, as well as colds and influenza, all amongst the holidays. It hasn't been easy. I sometimes feel like a bad mother because I feel like I can't keep you healthy, but I know in my heart that I am doing every thing I can to keep you healthy, happy, and growing. Then I lay off and remind myself that you are happy and healthy (most of the time) and that I am sure that you know that there is no one on this earth who loves and adores you more than me.

As difficult as it can some times be, every day I wake up to you and know that there is nothing in my life I'd rather be doing than raising you and there is no one I'd rather spend my days with. Every day is an adventure with you, Ruby, and I thank you for opening my eyes to a joy and beauty in life that I never saw before, even on those days we are both so tired we cannot see straight. Even on those days when you are angry with me for not letting you eat tissue paper. Even on those days when I'm frustrated because you woke up 15 times at night... There's beauty in all of it and I know one day I'm going to miss your tangled mass of hair, the way you throw your food all over the kitchen, and the way you whisper "mama." Just like how I already miss the teeny tiny you and the gurgle noises you made or the soft way you placed your hand on my cheek. I think of all the memories we have made this past year, and all the memories we have to make in the years to come. Ruby, I am so blessed to be your mama and to get to make those memories with you.

All my love,

Mama

Christmas 2012

Dear Ruby,

Yesterday was your very first Christmas. We spent the weekend and Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa's. We celebrated on Christmas Eve, as we usually do, with my parents, brothers, sisters-in-law, and nephews, niece, and, of course, you. Grandma made a huge delicious dinner and after we settled in to open gifts. It was getting late for you and Tesa, so we let you both open your gifts first in case one or both of you crashed and burned before we finished. As I expected, you were more interested in the bows and paper more than what was in the paper. Every time I turned around, you had stuffed another fistful of tissue or wrapping paper in your mouth. But you were surprisingly patient through the hours-long affair. You got so many nice gifts from our family! Clothes, jammies, and of course, plenty of toys and books. After everyone had opened their gifts, which was more hurried and hectic than it's been in many years (since Cody and Brett were little), I brought you to the kitchen for a snack. I didn't know if you would have any room left for actual food, after all the paper you ate (or attempted to eat). But you were chowing down on some crackers and entertaining my family, talking and making faces with LeeAnn. I think you surprised everyone, Ruby. When you were smaller, you were quiet and content just to observe and, seemingly, pass judgment. You were not interested in moving or talking too much. Just observing.

Now, you are constantly on the go, exploring and crawling as quickly as possible. You have lots to say and you have a handful of words you like to state, sometimes with correct meaning, sometimes not. When you feel you haven't made your point, you say the word over and over again, repeating it short and sharp, very stuccato, like this is going to make us understand your point. A few words you have said in the last few months: mama, papa, nana, bye, this, that, stop, yes. I love hearing each of these words, whether or not they are said in the right context. It's hilarious, though, because you have a little lisp, and everything with an 's' is pronounced 'sth'. Yes turns into 'yesth'. This turns into 'thisth'. One of my favorite moments was a couple weeks ago when I was getting you ready for daycare in the morning. You hate to be dressed and always try to crawl or roll away and at times we leave the house and I'm covered in sweat because I've spent the last 25 minutes wrestling you, my little alligator, trying to change you, dress you, get your snowsuit, boots, and hat on... This particular morning, maybe you were feeling a little tired and lazy, or maybe you just decided to try a new tactic. You were lying on my bed as I changed your diaper, and when I went to pull a clean onesie on over your head you raised your hands to me and very sternly said, "Shtop!" After I composed myself from laughing my tail off, the concern needled the back of my head and all I could think was, "UH. OH." You are very clever and extremely determined. There isn't much that will sway you from what you want. My creativity in disciplining is poorly matching your need to be disciplined (already) and I've decided that the next book I need to read is "Happiest Toddler on the Block." Happy toddler, happy mama? I hope so...

You have blossomed so much in the last two months that each morning when you wake up, I feel a curiosity of what new things will I learn from you today? What little glimpse of your personality will I see? Your personality is vibrant now, where when you were smaller it was reserved, subdued. With me, you are brave, confident, and comical. With people you don't know so well, you are smiley, but hesitant and reserved. Oddly, there is a wisdom about you. Your eyes seem to relay that you know things that no 11 month old child should know. It seems your hesitation with others has been learned, but I don't know how. I was delighted to see you open up to your Grandma and Grandpa this weekend. You lost your hesitation after spending four days with them and as happy as it made me, I think it made them even happier.

This Christmas was the best I have ever had, despite both of us fighting colds and you not sleeping well. (Recently you have been waking between 2 and 6 times per night. I am sure your inability to sleep soundly is because you have more teeth moving but it makes for a slow moving mama in the morning!) I can't think too much about how Christmas has come and gone because it makes me well aware of the time that is slipping away. Soon, it will be your first birthday and one part of me will celebrate with you - balloons, cake, and presents. But, honestly, one side of me will cry too. My baby is growing up and as much as I try to enjoy every moment I have with you, I already miss your teeny-tiny body snuggled on my chest, and your sweet sweet smiles at 3 a.m. when I woke you for yet another feeding. I miss the 0-3 month clothes and jammies and the (relative) ease of carrying you in your carseat. I miss all the tiny baby noises you made and the list goes on... Oh, Ruby, already there is a lifetime of moments to treasure and miss. But, I can't focus on those... and really I don't, except when I look through pictures and remember.

I am so excited for you and all the things you will learn and explore in the coming year.

When hearing the story of Jesus' birth this Christmas, I considered Mary more than I ever have. I think about how much she loved Jesus and how she must have thought about his future. I think about how she must have felt giving birth to him in a stable and laying him in the hay to sleep. How she maybe worried and was scared, but yet so happy and proud. How I felt when I met you and love you and worry and think about your future. Before you, I never realized... I thought about how, when becoming a mother, faith in God and His plan suddenly becomes the most important source of strength a mother can have. How it should have always been my most important source of stength and comfort, and somehow it took you for me to realize it. I thank you for that, Ruby. For making me see how much God loves me and you and for making me see how I need Him in my life.

Merry Christmas, baby girl.

All my love,

Mama
 

Giving thanks

My dearest Ruby,

This past week and weekend we celebrated Thanksgiving. Boy, did I have much to be thankful for! Although your first Thanksgiving was less than eventful (we stayed home because I was sick) we spent it together and I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I had the Friday following Thanksgiving off because your daycare was closed and somehow we lazed the day away with Grandma and Grandpa… Saturday afternoon we braved the mall to get some Christmas shopping done and I had so much fun with you! I haven’t had that much fun in ages and the joy of exploring everything with you was more fun than even the Christmas music and lights. We strolled through the mall, you tucked into your stroller, with shopping bags packed all around you. You had your numerous teething rings throughout the day that are now scattered throughout the mall, forever lost to your nimble little fingers. I think we lost 4 teething rings that day! You were so happy and full of life. You chattered around the teething rings and drool and charmed everyone who saw you. You were endlessly patient, weaving in and out of stores and around people and oh, back to the store we had just left… You smiled and chatted throughout the afternoon and only paused in your dialogue when we stopped at the pet store to see oodles of puppies jumping, playing, and barking. You became quiet and still as you watched those mysterious little critters. When I asked you what a puppy says, you ignored me. When I barked, you startled and slowly turned to look at me like I was someone who was possessed. When I laughed, you casually smiled and turned back to the puppies, patient if a little annoyed that I had disturbed your study. That’s one thing about you that everyone notices, Ruby. You are very studious. You examine everything and everyone with deep solemnity and it seems once you have figured it out, only then you are allowed to smile. Wonder and weary fills your eyes when you study things and people and when I see that expression on your face, I want to wrap you in a hug.

At the mall, you met Santa Claus for the first time. I wanted to have your picture with him but I could see you studying him and I was worried you would cry if I put you in his lap. I tried anyway. That’s one thing, as a mother, I have been trying to learn and get better at – learning to let you go and trust that things will work out. I whispered to you that this was Santa Claus and slowly placed you in his lap. He smiled and asked your name. You stared at him then turned to look at me as if to say, “Don’t you dare walk away!” I reassured you and was so proud of you that you didn’t cry! I am sure I looked a huge goon that afternoon as I clapped and cheered you on as you sat in Santa’s lap, barely cracking a smile. We bought some pictures of your visit with Santa and I told Santa how good you have been this year. I hope he remembers when he makes a stop at our house on Christmas Eve.

Sunday, you and I went to church at River Heights. There are virtually no other children in that church, especially not babies, and I was a little worried that any noise you made might carry. I was wrong to worry. You were a good girl and although you got a little impatient, a book caught your attention and held it for most of the service. You have been very talkative the last week, and I don’t know if it’s a product of teething or just you finding your voice, but you had a few words to share with the church on Sunday, your tiny voice echoing over the pastor’s sermon. I couldn’t do anything but smile. After the service, several people came up to introduce themselves and meet you. Pastor remembered us from several months ago and said he was happy to see “Ruby Tuesday” again. A couple people commented on what a good girl you were and that your little voice was a joy to hear in their church again. One older gentleman said that he misses the sounds of babies and children in the church and it was so good to see and hear you. He held your hand and gently squeezed it. You smiled very openly to him, what seemed to me an invitation of friendship. Everyone asked us to come back again soon. I waited until I got to the car before I let tears fall. I had worried for nothing. That church welcomed us with open arms and those people adored you.

I don’t know how anyone could not adore you, Ruby. You are a joy. I love you more with each passing day. My dreams have come true because of you.

Love,

Mama

Everything

During my shower tonight, I was having an imaginary conversation in my head. I was imagining a situation in which I had to defend myself in front of "prestigous" people and in my mind my excuse was, "What do you expect? I came from nothing!"

Nothing. Really? That was the first excuse that came to my mind? How absurd. The imaginary situation faded from my head and I was then thinking to myself, "Why do I think I came from nothing? Just because we weren't rich growing up?"

I think back to my childhood and I feel so blessed. My parents were together, and still are, and I never once doubted their love for me. My brothers, although we had our issues (ha!), clearly loved me. I never once went to bed hungry and I never lacked for clothes, warmth, education, or love. How lucky was I! I have such warm, fond memories of running to the house from getting off the bus after school and racing my brothers to the house so that I could be the first to sit at the table and enjoy a freshly made bun or chocolate chip cookie and be the first to tell mom about my day. It was always a race to get our stories out because less than an hour later, Dad got home and had stories for Mom. Everyone was clamoring for Mom's attention and she was busy preparing supper, us kids had our chores and homework and needed the time to unwind and play (and sometimes fight). Supper time was a family event, all of us at the table, tv off (no books for me), and conversation. Mom's delicious supper always hot and plentiful... Bedtime was a relief from a busy day, often with books before bed, hugs and kisses from Mom and Dad, and being tucked in tight. I can still feel the heavy, comforting exhaustion of laying in bed, smelling fresh from my bath, with clean tight sheets and soft jammies, raising my arms to hug my parents. I loved how Dad would tuck me in tight - so tight I couldn't move and if I thought about it too much I would get claustrophobic, but mostly I would just fall asleep with the blankets snug around me, wrapping me in a lingering hug. Mom would brush my bangs from my forehead and I would sleep peacefully.

Of course, it wasn't all sunshine and roses, but the issues we had as a family are common and minor compared to those issues of many families. Those issues cultivated the people my brothers and I have become, how we deal with our issues, how we lean on each other and God when things get tough. Love, forgiveness, hope, and God... those are the things my family believes in. How is that "nothing"?

I realize now that I don't truly believe I came from nothing; it was just a convenient knee-jerk reaction when my guard and all defenses were up (granted, in an imaginary conversation. uff. I must be a nut.). And having analyzed myself and my reason for thinking all this the last 2 hours, I turn my thinking, as I always do, to Ruby.

How can I raise her to feel that she grew up with "everything"? We don't have everything as far as material things go, that's for certain. But we do have a nice, warm home. We have plenty to eat. I have a running vehicle and a great job. I have a wonderful, loving family and super friends. And we have each other.

The last 2 days, Ruby has been sick with the stomach flu. Her first flu. I have been home from work the past 2 days with Ruby, changing diapers, changing clothes, holding her, rocking her, feeding her, playing when she feels up to it... just loving her. It's certainly not fun to see her feeling unwell, but it gives me the opportunity to comfort her and love her in ways that her 10-month old independence sometimes refuses these days. I am so grateful for that. The other night, she was sick and I was holding her over the puke bucket and her tiny body was tense and she was fevering and sweaty and just so miserable. When she was through, I wiped her face with a cool wet washcloth and then laid her on my chest and rocked her in the rocking chair. She did not cry nor did she fall asleep. She just laid there, so exhausted. I didn't want to talk or sing to her in case she wanted to sleep. We just silently rocked together. After a few minutes, she raised her head to look into my face. She looked into my eyes for a long moment, then laid her head back on my chest. I continued to rock her as my tears fell into her hair. It was like she was thanking me. I could feel it.

There are so many things I have done wrong already in her short life. But I know that I am doing some things right, too. I love her with a fierceness that no one can match. I want the best for her more than I want anything else in this life. At the start of each day, I tell myself that I am going to love Ruby my best today. At the end of each day, I ask myself, "Were you a good mama today?" More often than not, I go to bed satisfied with knowing that I met Ruby's needs and she knows that I love her. In the grand scheme of things, I think that's everything a child needs.

Four more years

My sweet Ruby,

Last night was a historic moment in time. Barack Obama was reelected President of the United States.

You were tucked safely away in our room, blankets and teddy bear askew, snoring softly. We had spent the evening reading, playing, eating supper together, and you had a bath. I tucked you into bed and plunked myself down in front of the tv to await the judgment of this country. I sat in the living room, my eyes locked on the tv, praying a fervent prayer of real change for this country. Four years ago, long before I had any notion of you, I had voted so hopefully for Obama. He promised change and change we got... change for the worse. After so much heartache across our country these past four years, increasing deficit, increasing expenses, increasing unemployment rates, increased foreclosures, decreased morale, I couldn't in good faith reelect a president who had failed his nation so miserably for four years.

This election year, I had so much more to consider. You. Your future. I want to see a revolution in the U.S. and turn around so much of what has gone wrong these past 4 (10, really) years. I want a bright, hopeful future for you and a world full of opportunity. I want to raise you in a country with solid Christian values, without judgment or ridicule on either side of the spectrum. You deserve that.

I have lead in my stomach today. I worry about the direction our nation has taken, but as with all things, we have to trust God to lead us. He doesn't promise it will get better but He promises to help us through. No matter what our country is like in 10 or 20 years, I pray that God guides and comforts you and helps you through. And I'll be beside you every step of the way, cheering you on...

We can do big things, my girl. Courage.

All my love,
Mama

Fear

The last few weeks, I have been living a life of fear. Fear for the safety of my daughter and of myself. The last several months I have been screamed at, sworn at, lied extensively about, my name has been slandered within and outside of the court system, and it's even been insinuated that I have hurt my daughter. My lawyer, on my behalf, has been pleading with the courts to step in and help me and Ruby out but nothing has been done and the situation, and volatility, keeps escalating. My family and friends are afraid for my safety and the daycare as well - as has been reported to the courts. I have hid in my home the last 3 weeks, doing nothing but going to work/daycare, afraid to meet my abuser around town.

This morning I went to a local intervention center and no progress was made. Basically, they said because the abuse has not yet turned physical, there is nothing they can do. I wept and told them how afraid I am for my daughter's safety and they shrugged their shoulders at me. They said to call Child Protection Services. I got to my car and called CPS... they said the same thing. They can't help me.

I am sure, in the coming weeks, things will get much worse. My lawyer is going to send a few more things to court and told me to have someone with me at all times when I'm out and about, and to put a deadbolt on my door. I will do those things but I want it known - when things turn very ugly - that I sought help and WAS DENIED by the very system that was put in place to help people in my situation.

I am at my wits end. I feel like I am helpless to protect my daughter and myself. I have never felt so helpless or alone in my life.

My Ruby

I won't give up on us.