“Dosh”

Dear Elena,

I picture you searching for this letter in a box somewhere in your storage. My mama’s heart wonders if you’ll have a daughter, too. Will you read this letter on her second birthday?

Last year, to celebrate your first year of life, I joined this writing challenge along with a promise to sit in our moments together to find slices. During that month, I rediscovered a writing voice that was neglected for a while, and for an entire month, I wished for you to experience the same sort of magic as an adult.

At the start of February, I considered whether I’d filter this second year through you or a mix of randomness, and I decided not to make a choice. Why tame the wilderness? Some slices might be inspired by your marvelous presence in my life, while others might not. As I compare how I’ve felt this time around, I must admit that the word that comes to mind is freeing.

Is there an aspect of your current life that feels the same way? I hope so.

There are many fun stories about your second birthday, including the way you learned to show two fingers when we asked your age (Dosh! or Two), the face you made when licking the icing off your face (I’m sure you’ve seen this photo multiple times), and how you are confident the happy birthday song ends with the lyrics: blow the candles! Which you say in Spanish whenever we sing to you.

“Sopla vela”

Everyone melts.

I could also tell you about my [annoying] back-and-forth when planning events and the weight of [no one’s] expectations that tend to steal the joy of each moment… Just not this time. I brushed off every creeping thought and lived your celebration with you. Now is what matters.

Is there an aspect of your current life that needs the same reminder? I hope not. But if there is, then use this letter as such.

At two, you are becoming your own person. We brace ourselves with knowledge and patience for the “terror” everyone warns us about, but what I choose to think of at the end of each day is the silly moments we frame: The way you hold my leg while I cut your apple, looking up with a sweet smile that I know translates into, “I know I could be playing with the blocks, but my toddler brain says you’re my safe place. So, hi!”

Is there an aspect of your current life that feels safe beyond doubt? I most definitely hope so.

Your first year brought me back to a space of creation, and your second year is giving me opportunities to practice being in the moment (I say as I write a letter to you in the future, lol!) No matter how many things you throw on the floor or cry over nothing, I will end my day by framing the joy of you.

Feliz cumpleaños, Elenita de mama. What a gift you are.