to my son on your fourth birthday
i took this photo at sunset on the last day of your third year. tomorrow morning you will be four.
i took this photo at sunset on the last day of your third year. tomorrow morning you will be four.
happy second birthday to my bird. my second baby. my daughter. inside this last year i watched you become janet. my fiery, determined, brilliant baby girl. while this last year has certainly been a weird one (remind me to tell you about the worldwide pandemic one day) .
happy golden birthday to my sun – a boy with a personality as bright and bouncy as his hair! hunter you are sweet, hilarious, and more thoughtful than i ever knew a little boy could be.
today is international women’s day. this year i would like to celebrate my mama. a woman who by example taught me to walk down whatever path in life i wanted – and to do it in tie dye and glitter. she raised me to be loud.
there always seems to be one more craft idea, one more dance party move, and one more crusty package of fruit snacks we can pull out of our asses.
my mother came across the idea of chalk blessing your home for the feast of the epiphany. basically the blessing is a way to invite god into your home on the daily.
you. where do i begin with you?
well… jay… simply put… you are tough. tough in every sense of the word.
there was no awareness of the moment while it was happening.
life simply moved on.
life can be brutal like that.
i wish i could somehow show this photo to myself ten years ago.
“chill. you will find a GORGEOUS man. a good man. and you will have a baby boy with curly blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes. and they will both love you so much that they root for the mets.
to my hunny on your second birthday,
two. oh my. my boy, my heart, my world. you are two. how can this be? on one hand i can hardly believe two whole years have passed since we met. on the other it seems like an entire lifetime ago when it was just me and baba and snoop dogg.