dear ramona,
we first hear your soft whimpers and babbles on the video monitor around 5:00 in the morning. waiting for it to get urgent, we end up falling back asleep bc you do too. then again, you usually stir at 6:30, and by 7:00 you are fully calling for us to come get you out of your crib. we hear the thump thump thump of your pacifiers hitting the rug (i think you sleep with at least four. apparently you only care about them when flinging them to the ground for dramatic effect).
papa always is the one to go get you. he brings you up to our room and into bed and under our covers, and then the three of us snuggle while you nurse for the first time of the day. we spend the time cooing to you, giddy but still sleepy, and papa and i discuss our plans for the coming day. then, when you’ve had enough, you crawl around the bed and over our bodies, kissing first papa and then me and then otto. otto always gets lots of kisses. i realize this sounds a bit contrived, maybe saccharine. honest to goodness, this is what the first fifteen minutes of our day looks like and i wouldn’t trade it for anything.
but you, sweet sweet ramona, you are getting older, and much more independent. you devour eggs and yogurt and oatmeal for breakfast. you snack on cheddar cheese and bananas and smoothies papa whips up. you love pasta and red sauce and haven’t made up your mind about meat. unless it’s ribs, dripping from the bone. black beans are your absolute favorite. especially if they’re spicy.
and on top of eating solids like a champ (most of the time) you have discovered there is a world beyond your mama and your home and your backyard. and you love this fact. you are so ready to explore and introduce yourself and get to know the universe. when we are out walking you will seek out the nearest human or dog or ant or flower or playground slide to say hello to. fearless, you are, and sometimes i need to hold tight to your tiny little hand to protect you from dangers that are not evident to you yet (streets and cars and doors that slam shut and kids swinging on swings and dogs we don’t know).
i beam with pride at your exuberance and your confidence and your enthusiasm about the people and places and things around you. just yesterday you stomped around the playground with two older girls, not once looking back to check where i was bc you were so content to be making new friends. even when they accidentally pulled you over a high ledge and you fell, you simply got up, dusted off your hands, and toddled quickly back to grab their outstretched hands.
but what this means, ramona, (and this is something that will hold little significance to you until you are a mama one day) is that our relationship is changing. undoubtedly it’s for the better–and it’s natural and neccesary–but it is a little tough on me, your mama, right now. for nearly fourteen and a half months you and i have shared a special connection: since you were born you have nursed. and this was a constant i could count on (we both could count on). you needed me and i loved giving you the nourishment and “home base” you needed. it was a time for us to sit down, take a time-out from whatever was going on, and fill-up: you with milk and me with good hormones and a tangible reminder of who we are to each other.
but you are nursing less and less. once in the morning (my favorite nurse of the day with you), perhaps for a very short bit once, maybe twice, during the course of the day, and then right before bed. besides our morning time together, i don’t even think you are receiving much, if any, milk. and though it is a sweet time with you, i know this means it’s time to start weaning you (and myself) and to continue to move towards encouraging you to be the independent young girl you are becoming. the morning nurse/snuggle, will probably be the last to go. and i imagine that day, that morning–when you come upstairs and do not shriek with anticipation about your first nurse; when you go straight to morning kisses and being all roly-poly all over the bed instead of searching gleefully and frantically under my top–that morning will be so so so bittersweet for me. you are my daughter, my love. but foremost you are your own person and i must respect the changes in your development, in your needs, in your personality, and in your preferences. and while it is difficult for me to have this part of being-ramona’s-mama ending, i am so excited to see what else our mother-daughter bond has in store down the road.
i love you, my minka, my beanie bop, my mo and my moo. you are really the best.
love, mama.
see some other letters to ramona: about love, about style, about fun, about family, about communication.
she wakes up, she calls for me, i nurse her, we snuggle, she tromps around looking for another, different snack, and then seems to always find her way back into my lap.
yes. that is m&m chocolate smeared all over her face and romper. sometimes i let her eat trailmix with me. and of course she’s learned to go straight for the sweet little nuggets of chocolate. good thing she likes the raisins too.
my dear ramona,
fun is with you. fun is on the floor making animal noises and reading book after book and pretending the sheep puppet is talking to you. fun is the laugh you give when papa swings you around and when mama tickles your belly. fun is you dancing to the record player and us trying to sneak a video of it. fun is morning snuggles and trying on mama’s jewelry and putting ponytails in your hair. fun is the noise you make when you see the box of cheerios when we walk through the kitchen. fun is petting violet and lacy and your fearlessness w animals. fun is letting you roam free around the yard, watching you learn how to climb rocks and pick flowers and splash in water.
fun is you with our friends. fun is your charisma and inclusiveness. fun is the smile you get when you see nona or diri or lashley or kimmy or miss tara or uncle ko or aunt beth. fun is your love for and excitement for others. fun is knowing you are so loved by them.
fun is celebrating. fun is knowing how to party. fun is throwing parties for no reason. fun is certainly throwing parties for birthdays. fun is good food, homemade desserts (ok, ok: your cake was from a box), bright red lips, unnecessary decorations, lots of different people, tasty drinks (drinking responsibly of course), and a mixture of silly and thoughtful conversation.
girl, has it been fun.
i love you. love, mama.
read other letters to ramona from the sling diaries series: love, style, exploration, communication, and history.
this post is done in collaboration with sakura bloom. the sling i am wearing is the simple linen in twilight. the beautiful photos are by the unschooled (that’s for you, leigh 😉 ), teenage photographer phenom, luca venter. they were taken in our backyard during ramona’s first birthday party. special thanks to hey! party collective for making it all look so snazzy.
as i’ve become more and more comfortable with being away from ramona and having other people besides jp watch her, i have come to realize something quite significant about her personality. little miss ramona bean — my social, charismatic, and engaging child — is an introvert.
i started to notice this when we began to put stuffed animals in her crib. there’s a giraffe and a little doll (i’ve named it beatrice, or bea bea) that sleep with her. when she goes to sleep, she puts her arm around bea bea and falls asleep. and when she wakes up, she sits there and babbles to the both of them. on the days where i get her immediately upon waking up from her nap, i have a grumpy monster on my hands. when i give her time to sit there quietly with the dolls and talk with them and giggle, i find she is much happier and rested after she has had that alone time (not just the sleeping time).
so, from this first observation, i learned to let her be until she called for me after a nap. and then another thing started happening: as i mentioned before, we’ve been leaving her with other people for periods of time at least once a week. being away from her for more than two hours, and not just after bedtime, is relatively new to us. it became apparent that when she was dropped off or we picked her up or got home from being away this girl 1) cuddles like never before. she just sits quietly in my lap and soaks in “home base.” and 2) shows signs of desperately needing a nap (even if she just may have had one while we weren’t there). so i put her down in her crib and she sits there and talks with her dolls for a good half hour. this is her requested alone time. and then, when she’s had enough, she calls for me and is ready to interact again.
it’s precious, really. somehow, this one year old knows nothing of the annoying distinctions we (including myself!) try to label and project onto people to try and figure them out (introvert/extrovert. personality types, etc) but she does know that she needs alone time. and all i can do is make sure i’m reading her cues and allowing her the space and volume and interaction levels she needs (or doesn’t!).
this is not bea bea. this is the doll my mother made for ramona for her first birthday. ramona’s very first doll made just for her. it hasn’t been named yet and it’s about as tall as ramona so it’s pretty wonderful to see her try and lug it around. she’ll grow into it. 😉
what have you learned recently about your little one?
my sweet ramona,
you come from two lines of great families. we’re not political families, nor socialites, nor is there old money (or new money for that matter!). but between the powers and the drivers, your history starts w quite a legacy. there are teachers and counselors and coordinators and developers. there are students and doctors and entrepreneurs and artists. there are lovers and fighters and seekers and explainers. i list (and brag about!) these livelihoods and traits to illustrate to you that you can be whatever you want to be within this family. you will be supported and you will, unconditionally as much as humanly possible, be loved.
we are family people. we are tight knit. we like tradition and game nights. we love family dinners. we make fun of one another and we support one another. there are daily phone calls and texted photos showing off our little ones or projects. we do, of course, get sick of each other.
your family believes in marriage and God and hard work and silliness and creativity. we are not perfect. sometimes we fight. always we find a way to constructively make-up. family –and the history of a family– can be messy and complicated. we are not free from this. we are all so different. it is good to have this in your history bc it can help you figure out better who you are. and where you fit into the scheme of things.
this letter does little to fully explain to you where and who you come from or what your history is. ask questions. expect real answers. listen to the stories of your mother and father, your grandparents, your aunt and uncles. get to know us. as you get older you will piece together your own idea of your history and what came before you. this patchwork of the past will explain some things about who you are or why your parents do the things they do. it will probably frustrate you and sometimes, i regret to say, disappoint you. but my prayer is that you mostly discover the pride and joy that i have coming from –or marrying into– these families. i feel incredibly blessed and i hope you grow up feeling the same.
i love you, minka. love, mama.
read other letters to ramona bean over here, here, here, here, and here.
this post is done in collaboration with sakura bloom. the sling i am wearing is the simple linen in wheat. the beautiful photos are by megan newton of megan newton photography who graciously did a portrait shoot for the power side of the family. they were taken at the populist, jp’s new restaurant slated to open in denver at the end of august 2012.
welcome
