Letters to Baby M: A Sweet Little Girl

Letter written August 8, 2013.

Dear Baby M,

I guess I could have written "Dear Baby Girl" up there, because holy cow - you're a girl!  Your Dad and I found out a few weekends ago with all our closest friends and families surrounding us.  It was such a fun way to find out, and the most emotional moment.  You see, I was convinced I had a little boy swimming around in there (if I'm being honest, I'm still finding it hard to believe, and am a little worried I'm going to go into my next doctor's appointment and find out they guessed wrong!).  I was so surprised when we cut open our cake, and it was filled with pink frosting!

I feel so blessed and lucky to be having a daughter.  There are the superficial things, like how adorable little girls clothes are, and how you're sure to be rocking many a headband for the first few years of your life.  But there is so much more to it.  You're going to grow into a little lady, and then a woman.  You'll learn after you get here and grow older, being a woman is being a part of an elite class that can make life both harder and easier.  You'll see that men (and other women) often second guess our strength, but I've never seen a guy giggle his way out of a parking ticket.  You'll have to learn how walk the thin line of how to be caring, but not too emotional; to be sweet, but not skanky; to be friendly, but not naive.  Your Aunt A will be sure to teach you all about feminism, and how to hold on to your rights as a woman.

I can't wait to see what type of little lady you turn out to be.  Will you be girly like your Mother, and love all things pink, glitter and rhinestoned?  Or will you throw me off completely and be a sporty little thing, choosing kicking the soccer ball with Dad instead of shopping with me?  I will love you either way, I already love you and I hear you're covered in a weird cheesey varnish right now (that's true love).

I hope that I can be your friend, but I promise not to forget to be your Mom.  I hope that you will want to be around me, not just feel obligated.  I hope that you like ruffles, but once you're old enough to tell me you don't, I'll stop putting them on you (can't make any promises pre-talking).  I hope that you love as much as you laugh, and if you're anything like me, you'll be doing lots of both.  I hope you're a Daddy's Girl, but not so much that you tell him secrets and I'm out of the loop.  I secretly hope you come out looking just like me, because I think it would be the cutest ever for me to have a mini-me.  I hope that you learn the value of family, and the importance women have in keeping the core of the family strong.

I'll teach you how to line your eyes with liquid and pencil - every girl should know both.  I'll teach you that to be a good friend you have to accept that your girlfriends will hurt you, and your lives will change, and the really good friends are the ones who stick around through all the hurt and changes.  I'll teach you that no self-respecting woman ever lets a man tell her what to do, except for maybe in the bedroom (I'll teach you that when you're way older).  I'll teach you how to pick out the perfect push-up bra, and how you really should only be showing boobs or legs at once (except in Vegas, anything goes in Vegas).  I'll teach you how to apologize, and hopefully you'll be better at it than me.  I'll teach you how to make Salsa Chicken (it's your Dad's favorite, afterall), but Aunt K will have to teach you how to bake.  I'll teach you to be respectful of every single religion no matter what, and to never tell someone that their beliefs are wrong (you're Jewish by blood, by the way, but you can practice whatever your heart desires when you get to that point in your life).  I'll teach you that doing well in school is so much more important than you could ever realize in junior high, high school and maybe even college.  I'll teach you that hard work pays off, and that getting a job when you're 16 is by far not the worst thing.  I'll teach you that your Daddy deserves respect, even when he's wrong, and even though I didn't always give my Daddy the amount he deserved.  And one day, I hope I'll teach you how to be a big sister.

Already Counting Down the Weeks,

Mom

 

Linking up with The Sweet Season for Friday's Letters.

Letters to Baby M: Your First Concert

Letter written Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Dear Baby M,

I've been waiting to start writing you letters, because it felt funny writing not knowing whether I was writing to my future son or daughter.  But, I felt so excited and connected to you earlier this month, I had sit down and write to you.

First of all, hi!  I'm your mom!  That is so weird to say, you'll find out when you get here I'm super hip, young, and hot for a mom, so it makes sense that it feels funny right now.  I can't wait to meet you, and I'm especially interested in what color your hair will be!

You went to your first concert this month (July 12, 2013), I saw Colbie Caillat with my Best Cousin (Your first cousin once removed?  We'll need to think of something a little more affectionate for you to call her) and she asked if I could feel you moving.  She thought maybe you'd be dancing!  I haven't felt you just yet, I can't wait for the moment I can feel you moving in there, and all the books say it could be any week now!

At the end of the concert, Colbie (who sings the best love songs and does a great show, by the way) asked everyone to stand and sing and dance along with her.  I kept touching my growing belly, and thinking I wonder if you can tell when I'm dancing.  Will you come out loving to dance like your momma or will you have to be drug onto the dance floor like your dad?  It was the first time I felt so connected with you that I felt like I already knew you, even though I still don't yet know if you're a little girl or boy in there!

If you're a girl, I hope you're like the pre-teen girls sitting two rows ahead of us, carefree and swaying to the music, giggling with your girlfriends.  I hope you'd turn around and tell the lady who told you to sit down (at a concert, hello?) to shove it (on second thought, those might not be the best choice of words), and that your mom told you never to take crap from nasty bullies at concerts.  I hope you'd be like the girl sitting with her mom, seemingly not because she had to, but because she wanted to.  I hope you like me as much as I like my mom.

If you're a boy, I hope you're like the many men entertaining their wives by attending a Colbie Caillat concert (not their first choice, I imagine).  I hope you'd turn out like the good guys in her love songs - the ones that treat women well, and make them fall head over heels not just for their looks but for the wonderful way they make them feel.  I hope you'll always hold a woman that you love's hand, rub her back, and whisper in her ear, no matter who is around.

I can't wait to find out more about who is floating around in there.  I hope you liked the dancing, little New Years Baby.

Love,

Mom

Linking up with: The Sweet Season, Things I Can't Say

Letters to Exes

Dear Control Freak,

You were such a jerk.  Like really, I can't even actually start this letter to you with any sentiment other than that.  You were abusive in more ways than one, and arrogant in more ways that I can count.  You also were literally dumber than a box of rocks.  What were your saving graces?  Your amazing, incredibly sweet, generous and kind parents who always made me feel welcome (even if they did make me sleep on the couch at your house, which was sort of odd) and comfortable.  I think you had a lot to learn, and I'm hoping, for your sake, you've learned it by now.

Dear Church Boy,

I can't help but smile when I think of how innocent you were when we met.  Not that I corrupted you or anything, but I don't think you saw me coming and I know your parents didn't.  You were kind and nice, and deserved someone who wanted the same things in life as you - which wasn't and still isn't me.  I often wonder if you ended up finding someone who makes you as happy as my husband makes me, and I hope you did because you really deserve it.

Dear Giant,

You were my first...everything.  At the time, I remember being so very enamored with you and thinking how cool I was to be dating a senior when I was just a lowly sophomore!  For years afterwards, our relationship haunted me.  Not in a tragic way, but it was something that people remembered - the odd couple (we were a foot and half apart in height), and they reminded me often that they remembered.  I don't really remember why things went from a typical high school break-up (you were moving away and going to college, I was only going into my junior year), but somewhere along the line after we broke up, things turned really ugly for a few years there.  You were mean and hurtful and spiteful, and that?  I won't ever forget.  Also, I know you think you're very cool now with your big city job and lifestyle, but I gotta tell you - you look like such a tool in half the crap you put on Facebook. 

It is my sincere hope that these letters are more anonymous than real, but if any of you are reading?  I mean every.  single.  word.

Dear Hobby Lobby,

Thank you for being closed on Sundays.

Thank you for making sure I don't spend unnecessary money on your adorable home decor, trinkets, and your extensive selection of craft supplies.  Because you see, when you work all week, and have obligations with friends and family most Saturdays, Sundays are the days I feel extra crafty.  And when you're closed on Sundays, you know what I don't do?  Go on Monday.  I just don't go at all.  So, uuber thanks from my wallet!

I sort of get where you're coming from with the whole day of rest thing, but then again - I don't.  Because while you've got one partner in crime (coughCHICKFILAcough), there are many businesses who consider themselves rooted in faith, who are, in fact, open on Sundays.  I can think of one fast food chain who even prints Bible verses on their cups who stays open on Sunday - In N Out ring a bell?  (Also PS, I have a post coming on In N Out's amazing customer service, so double win for them!)

I'm totally not the only person who should be sending you a thank you note, you know who else should?  The CEO and stakeholders at Michaels.  Because some Sundays I can't just say no to crafting, some Sundays I am desperate for some hot glue, glitter or rhinestones (the main components in my crafting), and you know where I head to?  Michaels.  Because they're open! 

Wtih Great Thanks from my Wallet and Michaels,

 

Stress Casey
 

Dear Anonymous,

Last month, I wrote a blog post about the time where Swagger chased down Shia LaBeouf.  Before you read this post, you need to go back and read that one.  1. Because otherwise this will be irrelevant, and 2. it's a hilarious story (if I do say so myself).

Anyways,

Apparently some stick in the mud had a problem with my post, and my choice of new nickname for Shia after he refused my friend's request for a photo (the nickname was and will always be Shia LaDouche).

So, in the spirit of community - a letter to my new friend, Anonymous.

Dear Anonymous,

A personal opinion of mine that I have always held near and dear to my heart is one regarding celebrities and their "private time".  You know what I think you kind of give up when you get to live in huge mansions, travel all over the world (often for free, though you have the money to afford it), do stupid shit like get married and divorced in less than 100 days, and name your child things like Apple - private time.  Being that fans are the very people who make celebrities famous, I think that if a fan wants a photo (certainly a fan as hottie mchot as Best Friend Swagger) - she should get the damn photo (barring innapropriate times like medical care, sauna, etc - Starbucks run is not one of those times).

I would grow up, but if I did, then I wouldn't take nearly as much pleasure in my new nickname for you - AnonyDouche.

Sincerely,

Stress Casey

P.S. Something I found hysterical?  After reading AnonyDouche's comment, both Swagger and Cute Apartment questioned if it could be LaDouche himself! 

A Letter to My Sisters on Their Graduation Day

Dear Sisters Singer and Swimmer on Your Graduation Day,

Today, you graduate high school.

Something many have done before you, and many will do after, though that doesn't make it any less exciting. 

Or scary.

This is the ending of the only life you've ever known - a life filled with parents helping to make sure you get fed, get to school on time, and have money to pay for the things you need; and the beginning of a life you're about to start - a life where you are in control of every little detail of your daily existence from the food you put in your mouth to the people you choose to keep company with.

I can't even believe we're here - watching you walk in cap and gowns.

(One because it feels like just yesterday you were in diapers, and two because it is a painful reminder of exactly how many years ago I was sitting in the same graduation get-up saying goodbye to high school.)

I remember when you were babies.

I would hold you both, and pretend you were my little babies.

I especially loved once you were toddlers and I could convince you to call me Mommy every once in a while, sufficiently freaking out people in public who saw three-year-olds calling a nine-year-old "Mommy".

But I wasn't your Mother,

I was your sister and I took great pride in that role.

I have loved helping you get ready for dances, dates and big events.

Listening to you talk about boys,

and vent about the kind of fights every teenage girl gets in with their friends.

It has been a joy watching you grow up.

{At Sisters Singer and Swimmer's 8th Grade Graduation}

I remember spending hours wondering what you'd both be like when you grew up.

What would you look like?

What kinds of interests would you have?

What would you end up making your careers out of?

Well you're both more beautiful than I ever could have imagined,

and your interests couldn't be different from one another (but for a shared love for Disney, that is).

But you've both completely found your passions.

And that?

Is something to be grateful for - some people are triple your age and still don't know what they love.

I'm so proud of you both, you've turned into such wonderful young women with a future full of so many options.

Singer,

I have loved watching you sing, act, and improv your ass off on the stage the past four years.

Yes, I bitched and bitched when the shows would sell out and I'd be left sitting on a folding chair, and I gave your team crap for not not being more prepared.

But that has not once hindered the amount of joy I felt in my heart watching you in the spot you feel most comfortable: the stage.

Swimmer,

You are so determined it's crazy.

I feel like you could become the President of The United States if you really wanted to,

because when you put your mind to something, you never give up.

I love how you thrive on being part of a team, part of a group.

It's sweet and something that some people suck at - you are truly a team player at heart.

I cannot believe my sister is an athlete.

So unlike me, and so freakin' cool.

I know you will acheive eveything and anything you decide to go for in college,

I just can't wait to see what that will be.

I guess with my six year lead in life, I should have some kind of advice for you?

Don't worry if you don't feel like a grown up yet.

I still don't.

Sure, I pay some bills, and oh yeah - I got married, but I'm still waiting for the day when I all of the sudden feel like like I should really be trusted to run my own life.

You'll get there (hell, maybe before I do), and when you do, I want to be watching.

Stay inspired.

Never stop doing what you love.

And if what you love now becomes what you used to love, find something new to inspire you.

Never stop singing, doodling, or finding creativity in the monotony that can be adult life.

Never lose touch with your high school friends.

Hold on to them like they are a piece of you, because you know what?  They are.

And I promise, promise you, there will be times when the only thing you have in common with them is your shared history.

But that is enough.

Because the people who saw you through high school, who allowed you to grow up without letting you grow apart, are the people you want surrounding you.

Love your family.

If you don't already know it, there will come a day that you realize how insanely lucky you are to have a family that's not absent, insane, or (at least not completely) dysfunctional.

Things are not always perfect, but you have a family that loves you and supports you in whatever you choose to do - which not everyone does.

Truly try not to care what other people think.

If your goal is to please everyone, you will never ever succeed.

Focus on yourself, and making you happy - that will be most important to the people who really matter to you anyway.

Love with your whole entire heart.

Love someone so much it hurts.

Be prepared for heartache, but don't let it deter you from the feeling of being on clouds when you love someone like you should.

Don't get bitter - just get better.

Listen to people when they are mad at you, they tell you your flaws.

You can let it destroy you, or you can let it rebuild you.

Choose the latter.

It's never too late to start over.

A friendship, a relationship, a career, college.

If you want something, go for it - even if it means going back and repaving the road you already built for yourself.

Above all else,

know that I will always be there for you.

It doesn't matter where you go,

what you do,

who you marry,

what you believe in,

I will always be here,

with my arms open wide,

ready to hold you like I did when you were babies.

Love Your Big Sister,

Casey

A Letter to Myself at 15

Dear 15-year-old Casey,

First off, after you’re done reading this letter – turn off the TV, get off the computer, and go to bed!  You have plenty of years of exhaustion ahead of you, start saving your energy now.

You are so young.  But you totally don’t think so – you feel so mature and ready to take on the world, but you have no idea what’s coming. 

You’re about to get into a relationship – your first real one.  You’ll think you’re in love and when it ends, it’s going to hurt.  Like really hurt, like you haven’t felt yet.  You’re going to cry more than you ever have before, and feel like life, as you know it, is over.  But I promise you it’s going to get better.  Just a few months later and you won’t even remember the hurt – it’ll be like an old faded scar, just a painless reminder of what once happened.

Stop fighting with your friends – you fight dirty, and it’s not ladylike.  Be the bigger person, and don’t worry about winning every time.  Learn to admit you're wrong (even though I know it's so rare).

Be nicer to your parents.  There will come a time not too long from now that they will stop seeming like parents, and more like friends and not everyone is lucky enough to have that kind of relationship. 

Care about your grades more.  School is not just for socializing, and you’re going to wish you had paid a lot more attention, especially in science and history.

Spend more time with your sisters.  They’re only 9 now, but soon enough you’re look back and wonder where all the time you could have spent with them has gone.  They will go from little girls to teenagers to taller than you in the blink of an eye.  They love you and look up to you, especially now – be a good example.

You don’t have all the answers, and you don’t have to.  Stop looking for them desperately as if without them you’re destined to fail.  You will find your own way – build your own path.  What you want now is not what you’ll want forever, no matter how much you think it will be.  The prom queen goes back to being the same as everyone else after graduation, so do the cheerleaders, and everyone on ASB – stop looking at them like they have the secret to success. 

Relish every moment, and don’t try to speed up time.  Sooner than you think you’ll wish you could press pause, or at least slow down, so take advantage of this time in your life with minimal obligations and responsibilities. 

Also, learn to take out the trash, and start making your bed more often – these habits would be good to have.

Lots of Love and a Promise that Everything Turns Out Great,

Casey at 23

PS – take a couple pictures here and there with that Smart-Ass Redhead Kid you finally got over, they’d be so nice to have now.

A Letter to Myself 10 Years From Now

Dear Casey in 2021,

I'm writing you so you remember exactly what you felt like in this time in your life.  It is such a dynamic time that I'm not sure you will ever again experience something this abounding again.

You are so immersed in your education and your goals in nursing.  You are so desperate to work (not for the money, but because it is what you know will give you fulfillment), that you will work as a Medical Assistant, a Receptionist, a CNA - anything to get your foot in the door and be around patients.  Twenty-five minutes of shadowing a nurse doing a well-baby check made you giddy for weeks, thinking of how that sweet little baby stopped whimpering because you held her hand, and how she smiled when you took her temperature.  School is so hard - physiology genuinely makes you want to cry every Tuesday and Thursday night (let alone the other 4 nights a week you spend studying for it).  Your professor drives you almost as crazy as your nursing school professors, and you hope it will help you to further hone your skills as a student rather than drive you to wanting to drop her class.  Pharmacology reminds you that you did learn something at The School That Won't Be Named (for their benefit), and that makes you feel good about yourself because you know you taught it to yourself.

You enjoy your family more than you ever have any other time in your life.  Your mother respects you for what you have done and what you're doing, and her respect is a gift with endless value.  Your father loves you and loves having you around - and you have never had more to talk to him about than you do now.  Sister Swimmer is so much fun to be around, and you get sad when she's not there to talk to and spend time with on the weekends.  Sister Singer is so enjoying her involvement in choir and drama, and it makes you happy to see her happy.  You miss talking to Bubby and feel overwhelmed by the amount of people who God has taken from your life in the past 2 years - more than that, you are scared for the people He will inevitably continue to take.

You have never felt so content and completely satisfied with your relationships with your friends.  You have learned not to rely on them, but to appreciate them; not to need to talk to them, but to want to; not to expect  them to call you, but to be excited to see their names on the caller ID.  

You are so very much in love.  You married Handsome Husband exactly one month and one day ago, and it was the happiest day of your life (as cliche as that sounds).  You never felt more love than you did that day, staring into the eyes of a man you've loved unconditionally for years (really, since he first noticed you dancing when you were 12 years old), surrounded by people who were nothing but happy for you.  Your relationship is far from perfect, but that's what makes it real - there are ups and downs and getting through them is what makes you have faith that you will always search for the light at the end of the tunnel when your world will inevitably become dim at times.  HH takes you for you, and loves all of you.  He thinks you're sexy and beautiful, and you hope he always will - through aging, and pregnancy, and fights, and everything else life will throw at you.  

You have so many more good days than bad that bad days are a rarity.  You remember times that it wasn't like this and you are quite certain there will be times when the bad starts to outweigh the good.  Knowing that it is possible to be this happy though, and that you once weren't and you got yourself here through perseverance and faith is what you hope will pull you through times to come that may be more populated by sadness than joy.  You love to complain, but you love your life, and everyone that is in it.  You are lucky and you know it, which is the best kind of lucky.

Lots of Love and Wishes for the Best,

Casey in 2011