November 27, 2015
Today was a pretty special day for you. I packed you up and you got to come along for the very first time with me and my mom to the One of a Kind Show. My mom (your grandmother) and I have been going to the show together ever since I was a little girl. We go twice a year and have only ever missed going together once.
This tradition has lasted with us through turbulent teen years, unruly university years and into adulthood. We laugh at the same jokes, enjoy the same booths and eat the same food year after year and I look forward to our day together for months up to the event.
When I found out I was having a girl, I had visions of you and I one day creating and sharing traditions of our own. Having special days that only we know and the ways in which you would become my best friend- the way I look at my mom would be the way you look at me.
I’ll be honest, today was a bit more chaotic then I had imagined it to be in my mind but that is basically the status quo for my expectations vs. realities these days so there you go. I mostly wished I didn’t have your stroller to push around and wanted to punch the faces of everyone who gave me dirty looks for all the walking real estate I was taking up with it. But I digress, Baby because this is not about the logistics of bringing you out or how fucking rude people can be- it is about the bond between mother and daughter which I hope will be as important to you one day as it is to me.
One of the things that have really made me emotional is thinking about myself as a child, teenager and adult and the ways in which I have interacted with my mom. I have always really loved and admired my mom but I can’t say that I also haven’t been a total piece of shit to her directly and indirectly. It is the unfortunate part about teenage girls, they are just total assholes as they stumble through puberty and beyond.
Baby, I cringe to my core thinking about the crap I pulled growing up. The stupid things I did and said and how many of those same things you will do and say. But most of all, I think back on all the time that I have rejected my mom. Being “too cool” to hold her hand, rolling my eyes when she wanted to hug, pushing her away when she wanted to cuddle and being SO annoyed when she would be affectionate or basically come within 5 feet of me.
I die inside thinking that one day you will feel that way- and you probably will. That the face I kiss a million times a day will be one that is now off limits to me. The cuddles that made you smile will make you recoil and I will just have to grin and bear it.
The flip side that will make it better will be the hope that we have the kind of relationship I have had and have with my mom that is best represented by our bi-annual crafts how tradition. Every time we go, I know that she knows that she is still my safety blanket, my best friend and my mommy.
Today was the first day of a brand new tradition- 3 generations of us going out together and I hope to create many more with you that will stand the test of time and will continue to bond us long after it is appropriate to nibble your toes and kiss those yummy cheeks at will.
P.S. It wouldn’t kill you to hold my hand in public again when you are a grown up. Grown up people like holding hands too.