On Having a 5-year-old.

My tiny and sweet little first-born is five years old.

My sweet and chubby, delightfully absorbing, audacious and maddening, frightfully funny, stunningly beautiful, waited-for and just-right babe. Is FIVE.

Dearest, loveliest, daringest, bravest and brightest Luciya,

I love you so. Happy fifth birthday to you, my big and wondrous little girl. May your days continue to be filled with question and wonder, with delight and refusal, with determination and curiosity. May you continue to feel at home in this giant world, and may you continue to know in your heart that this life is for loving; that everyone loves you, and that it is okay to love.


You are Love exemplified. And somehow you found me and you make my heart turn in on itself and beam with pride, even in those moments - and they are not infrequent - that you make me want to tear out my eyebrow hairs, one by one.


You are a bright and thriving presence here, and while I on my right hand I want to cuddle your still-toddlerish cheeks and relish your pronunciation of "lellow" and "fings," on my heart-side I am ready to allow you to be five, to grow into this long and comfortable little girl who will be entering kindergarten in the fall.

Five years in a blink, a lifetime in a whirlwind of compromises and promises and thick eyelashes fluttering over olive cheeks. "Sheeks."

If I know anything about my own existence or purpose on this earth, it is that I was meant to be your mama. To love you with utter gratitude and awe, and to let you guide me, with your astounding old-soul wisdom, through these twisting miracles of Every Day.

Dear Luciya, may you and I always remain in this lovely capacity to talk with our hearts and share with our words. To "dream with our mouths" and find "night pictures on the ceiling."

Discovering the world through you has been a privilege. Somersaults = joy. The library = escape. Sharing the seemingly mundane = importance. Hugging = necessary. Haircuts = why not. Silliness = life. Compromise = annoying. "I don't care for the maybes, I only care for the yeses."

You are a jubilant star in the twisting galaxies of perplexity. You teach lessons on simple joy and the importance of a boundless imagination. May we all inhale the goodness that is a princess who is a sister and also a tap dance teacher who lives alone on a magical hill in the backyard.

Yes, you've been concerned/obsessed with death recently, but it has brought forth some pretty amazing insights:

"Mama, I don't want to be a statue. Then you couldn't run and play. And I would just be still all day." "I will never eat poisonous stuff." "Mama, when I die, will you pour fourteen cups of water on my statue?"

And there are the disappointments, of course:

"Mama." "What?" "It's hard." "What's hard?" "To catch a bird. All my life I wanted to catch a bird."

But just throw in some song lyrics, and you'll be good to go:

"London bridges are cooking meat, my fair lady."

"Cast off the shackles of yesterday, shoulder to shoulder, birds of prey!"

Welcome to the sixth year of your life, my dear one. Live it loud.

I love you, Luciya!

Love,
Mama

Before the Grace of You

And as I watch the drops of rain weave their weary paths and die I know that I am like the rain; There before the grace of you go I.

- Simon and Garfunkel


On the eve of her fifth birthday,
A poem to my first-born...

be strong and love to live, know that you are god and god is you
find a tree that your can climb, follow what's to follow through
be happy for all that there is
to be and see and know and feel
you are here because you should be
make your life full fun and real

know that you are safe and lovely
know that you are wise and sure
love is living, so keep loving
laugh and give and laugh some more

when you want to hug or listen
hug and listen, hold and share
say all that your heart is saying
dream in safety, leap in dare

give thanks for all that comes your way
blessed be your joyful heart
know that Life is just beginning
and you're here to help it start

in the shine of your eyes and the prance of your feet
in the brightness of life that you meet

in the wideness and weirdness and
tumblesome steps
take advantage of breathing,
have no regrets

you are amazing
alive, you're a miracle
dance it, believe it
be you and that's all the world can hope for

as long as you stay good
and be the best your heart can be
you are living, so don't worry.

let it go and know
that as your grow the world grows, too
and so it is, and it is so
i watch you and encourage you as you grow.

I love you, Luciya!

Love,
Mama

before rising

i still get raw

strength is fine and embraceable and it deserves my gratitude
but if i need to crumble sometimes it's just so sweet to fall

because
as delightful as it all is, always,
my heart does sink and flutter
and i feel the need to follow it down

blissful as existence is
the weight of it can shoulder me
and i roll into it like a heavy blanket
that lets me disappear

i do embrace the world that lives
i do squeeze all the grace i can from saplings clinging to hope i shovel into the soil
but sometimes the choice to backpedal is a freedom
and i need to cherish the lowness before
i can climb again

maybe it's the beauty of it all
maybe it's the pain
but that which gives a voice when it's needed
is louder than i can try to deny

burden is mine and it's alright to admit it
to let the gloss slip away and
be purplish-rare

it's rare
yes

and then the beauty trickles back in
with a gasp and a sigh
a finger on my backbone
that whispers feel this now
and then remember

superfluous sinking thoughts
inevitably are not my forte
but if i can allow my brittle endurance to be held
in an embrace other than my own
i should let it sink
and know that i am safe

that i might be mighty
that i could change the seared hopes of the broken
this is my fire
and chaos does not dampen it

but for now
i allow outside comfort to find me
that i may rest here
before rising.