Birthday Letter to My Girl…a week late

When I think about writing this letter to her so many things go through my mind. So many things that I won’t actually say to her. All my insecurities about being the mother come flying to the surface. The other day I was asked if I feel like she’s my daughter because she’s adopted. I don’t know how to answer that. I never had a daughter before and I didn’t have a mom when I was her age. I have many worries about her. I wonder if she feels loved enough. Do I give enough of myself to her? Or because of my own hurt over the years and all the similarities I see between the two of us I wonder if I push her away somehow. Do I laugh enough with her? Do I make her laugh? Will she always feel as I did growing up? Left out, different, terribly alone? How do I, as her mother, help in the healing process that God wants for her? My mom died when I was 9. I don’t know what kind of mom she was. I have very few memories of her. Because of all this it is difficult to write a letter to her without it carrying my sense of guilt. I want so much for her. I want her to love Jesus, be educated, not have get pregnant or have any children out of wedlock. I want her to dream and pursue those dream, to never ever give up. I want her to never find herself trapped in the welfare system. Well, maybe I should just get on with that birthday letter!

Dear Dusty,

I can’t believe that it has been 10 years already. It doesn’t seem possible, does it? Well, to me it doesn’t, but to you it probably feels like a long time…like it’s a whole lifetime. I was only 24 when you were born. Wow. I am so glad I was able to be at your birth. It was a pleasant surprise. You decided to come into this world on the day I had a break from taking care of my dad. Your head was covered in dark hair. I remember crying when you were born. So much emotion was flooding through my heart. I was incredibly thankful that you had arrived safely and completely in awe of God for this incredible process of being pregnant and having a baby. I cried for all the great things the world has to offer you and I cried for all the hurt it offers you, too. I remember looking at you as you were being born and praying for your life to be different. For you to rise above the women who have gone before you. I think we all want that. Us adults, that is. We look at the children around us that we love so much and hope that they are better than we are. Not in a bad way. But in that way that we have blazed the trail before you and learned so many things that we want to pass on to you so that you may get further on the trail than we have.

You are a beautiful girl. I love the way you look when you laugh uncontrollably about something so very silly. Isn’t it the silliest things that get us laughing so hard we have to hold our bellies in to keep them from bursting? I love how you have a love for babies. That is a gift. Not everybody is like that. You are very nurturing and playful. One day you’ll make a spectacular babysitter! Ah, you’re also a young business woman. “Mom, can I have a sale today? Can I sell kool-aid? Can we have a garage sale?” You’re always thinking of ways to make money, aren’t you? It is that kind of spirit that will keep you going and growing when things around you get tough.

When it is Bible time you are always asking to read. I love that in you.

There is so much you want to learn. So much you ask me to teach you. I will teach you what I know. Let me rephrase that, I will do my best to teach you what I know.

Dusty, you and I are much alike. We both know loss and hurt, but we also know joy and love. God brought us together for a reason. He has a plan. His plans are us are what? Yeah, I know you memorized Jer. 29:11. Thank you for letting Him use you in my life. You have shown me much about my own heart. Things I would have never learned without you. I love you. I truly and deeply love you. I love you to the moon and back a quadzillion times. {and yes ‘quadzillion’ is a word so don’t argue about it}

Love,

Your mama

Summer Days?

You would think it was winter by the way my oldest daughter was dressed. A turtleneck and long pants. Sitting in the sun selling Kool-Aid because it is  a hot day. She sold a gallon & made over $3. I think only .75 was from me. Now she is all excited about buying more kool-aid, sugar, and cups so she can sell more. I didn’t make her pay for her supplies this time since I had them all on hand. I have no idea why I had kool-aid…probably from a garage sale 2 or 3 years ago. {Please don’t judge me for letting my kids drink something that is pretty much like mainlining sugar.}

I made her change her clothes when we were going out in public.

Summer. I am so excited for summer. I missed out on last summer. I barely remember the blur of last summer. A fact that makes this summer all the sweeter.

I know we have mild winters here in the Willamette Valley of the Pacific Northwest, but I have never been so cold for so long. I will never ever complain about the heat or the mugginess ever ever again! Even on the one or two nights it is too hot to sleep, I will count it as a blessing.

My summer plans are great! I keep adding so many wonderful ideas to the list. Things like: declutter and organize the entire house, go on hikes with the help of my handy Oregon Hiking Guide, do the summer reading program at the library, go to the beach, go tangleboxing, continue on with the reading, writing, and arithmetic, and getting ready for the coming school year.

I have made the decision to not continue homeschooling my children. I know. It’s pretty much the unthinkable in certain homeschool groups. I know that some reading this may raise an eyebrow or two, but really, I don’t know how I can continue to do what I’m doing. I’m a single mom now. I have no veritable job skills. [I'm not sure what veritable means or if it even applies to what I'm talking about, but it popped into my head and I liked the sound of it.] I need to work. I need to get educated so I can make more than minimum wage. I will be going to Chemeketa Community College to pursue nursing, the same thing I’ve wanted to do since 1993.

Part of me thinks that by doing this that I’m not trusting the Lord to provide. A large part of me thinks that I’m a failure for not persevering in this homeschool journey. Am I throwing my children to the governmental beasts? I’ve been to enough homeschool conferences and read enough homeschool blogs to know what others are thinking. But you know what? I’ve met some incredible people who were public schooled. I have felt emotionally drained and overwhelmed in such a way that I wonder if there is more to give. This has been a tough year. I am stronger, but tired. I know that by saying I need a break from my kids is akin to saying I want to send them to boarding school. I didn’t base this decision based on what is best for me, but rather what is best for my children and for us as a family. One friend pointed out that if I kept my kids home due to my fear of what my friends will think, then I am being selfish. Needless to say, I will be selling some homeschool stuff. Not all of it, but a good portion of it. It will be sad for me to give up part of who I am. This isn’t the plan I had for myself, but I do need to get us out of debt and do what I can to ensure that I can refinance the house at some point.

So, I feel like this is the summer for change. The last summer of my life as I know it. Well, maybe last year was the summer that was the end of my life as I knew it.

I need to figure out where to begin my summer planning. There are berries to pick, fruit to pick, food to can and freeze, beaches to be loved by us, and trails to be explored, there is also laundry to be done, shelves to be organized, and clothes to be mended. There are countless creative projects waiting my attention. I have all these artistic sort of things I want to do, but neither the time or skill to do them.

Onto the new adventures of the Taylor Tribe.