Letter Into the Future

The other day I pulled out the camera because I was admiring her outfit.

And loving the combinations of colors and patterns.

So cute.

And thinking about how lovely it is to be unconstrained by social norms or messages, how she can just be herself, how she wears stuff because she likes it.

Amen, sister.

Then, last night, I was tickling her while getting her in her jammies.

She was laughing so hard, and I was kneeling over her, snuggling my face into her neck.

Tickle, tickle, tickle under her chin.

We've had a bit of a breakthrough the past few days, beginning when Little Miss announced to me that she wanted to wear underwear to bed like the boys.

So, we tried it, and it's working.

(Insert: HALLELUJAH!!)

So -- amidst the tickling, and while thinking about her not wearing diapers at night now -- I asked, "Why are you such a big girl?"

(Prompting, of course, the response that she's not wearing diapers EVER now.)

(I should learn to stop prompting responses in my head. Remember the last time I did that?)

And she stopped my heart for just a second when she said,

"Because I'm growing up."

Yes, she is.

Dear Mimi:

I want to tell you about some of my wishes for you.

When you get big, please let yourself still be you.

Wear the bright colors if that is you.

Say what you know is right and let the chips fall.

Be okay with who you are, and appreciate the OTHERness of others.

There is great, deep beauty in all of us.

I believe this so strongly.

Disregard the loud messages that try to force and persuade you to believe that you need to be this or have that or look like this or reach that status to be worthwhile.

The irony is that none of those things bring happiness anyway.

I wish for you, a thousand times, the wisdom to perceive this, and to let it govern your heart.

One of the greatest blessings of motherhood is feeling deep down into your soul the worth of another.

I wish I could capture that for you, that truth,

and that you would never doubt it someday, down the road,

maybe when you're a teenager and start wondering

how you match up, how you compare.

(Blast that ugly word!)

Or when the dream that you want isn't what is popular or what will be viewed as socially acceptable or as something worthwhile.

The beauty inside of you is crazy strong, it's almost deafening when I'm with you.

And I love it so much.

And when you stopped my heart by saying you're growing up, it's only because I know it's true.

I love you.

Mom

Considering the lilies

Last night before going to sleep, I slipped in a few verses for spiritual uplift. And I went to my bedroom and kept thinking about this one verse over and over as I nursed Mia. It was lovely to me.

"...even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these."

(Matthew 6:29, 3 Nephi 13:29)

I thought about the time and energy (and money!) devoted to physical appearance and putting yourself together -- and how much of our culture is focused on this. And don't get me wrong...I love to feel cute, to look cute. I don't have anything against that. But it was kind of comforting, reassuring somehow, to let this sink in and refocus. To realize the striking beauty in simplicity. To think about the fact that nothing man-made compares to what is blooming outside my window, to the grass beneath my feet, to the eyes of my children and the miracle of the human soul.

It nourished me.

What Women Need to Know

A long-time friend had her baby last Sunday. Penelope Mae, which I think is just lovely in and of itself. But I just got on her blog to look at the pictures she had posted of her sweet babe and read her note. And after giving all the little details about weight and birth time and height, she said my favorite line: "And was gorgeous from the moment she was born."

Made my heart sort of leap and I felt a tinge of emotion.

I look at my sweet baby girl and wonder how I could ever love someone more. I wonder if someone will love her and treat her as special as she deserves to be treated someday. Will they see in her that divine spark? Will they feel her overwhelming, beautiful spirit? Will she know how special, how beautiful, how remarkable she is?

I hope she knows.

Our time is a time when the world isn't kind to women regarding looks and expectations, and far too many of us beat ourselves up when we don't seem to meet the impossible standard. See here and here, for example. (Seriously, I kind of stagger every time I watch these.)

And then I think about how much I love this talk, how grateful I am for divine guidance, and how much I need to review it sometimes to remind myself. Click here for the text or here to listen. I breathe in this breath of fresh air with joy, grateful that there is still truth coming amid all the junk out there.

It is a thing to marvel, for me, this becoming a mother, and seeing another woman (my baby girl) in a fantastically adoring way. And not wanting her to ever wonder if she is enough, if she is beautiful, if she is wonderful. And it also makes me think about the times when I struggle with these questions, about the times that I need the reminder, a true north to help me remember. And it is a wonder to realize that my parents felt and knew these truths about me the way I recognize them in my sweet Mia. Then comes a calm, sweet whisper inside.

Yes, I was gorgeous from the moment I was born. I still am. And all of you women were. And you still are.

That is the truth, folks.

So I look at her, and I wonder these things, and I hold her close. I can tell her I love her and hug her and encourage and support and be there. And when the day comes that she has these questions, I hope she knows.

I hope she knows.