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.
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.
my dear ramona marilyn,
you are now one!
that was the fastest year of my life. it flew by. seriously.
you, of course, are still the same little girl that entered this world one year ago, except now you can walk and talk and feed yourself. it’s quite amazing, actually. and every new day and milestone is more and more fun than the last. i love who you are.
one revolution around the sun. four seasons. 52 weeks. 366 days (it was a leap year this year). my dear, it is strange, the effects of time. i can already imagine you and i talking over coffee when you are in high school; or sharing a cheese plate and a bottle of wine when you are home visiting from college or travels. of course, there are many more revolutions between now and then, but, at times, i canot help myself but fast forward.
sometimes, i think, if only i could slow it all down, would i want to? no. where we are –the pace we are going– this is how it is meant to be. it is so much fun (too much fun!) watching you grow and learn and try and figure out the world around you.
at one point you wouldn’t even open your mouth to applesauce or you would make yourself gag over my purees (i don’t really blame you, i suppose). now you gobble up pretty much everything we put in front of you.
not too long ago you couldn’t walk. overnight, it seems, you are scurrying all over the place. walking. running. climbing. we had to figure out shoes for you and quick!
and talking! before it was a series of blahblahblahs and dahdahdahs. now it’s duck! and dog! and cheese! and shoes! and yes! and oooohhhh! and sometimes you’ll even woof and roar.
you are, undeniably, a happy child. you have the gowiththeflow of your father and the stubborn spunk of your mother. you laugh, giggle, smile, mimic, beam, exclaim, engage, hug, kiss. you seek out and sit on laps and that is, perhaps, what i don’t want to change. i want to be able to hold and protect and envelop you for much longer than i know will be possible, both physically and practically.
one day our conversations will become more than you pointing to your belly, your head, your nose, and your toes (which you do so well). and it will go beyond us teaching you rights and wrongs and goods and bads and all the fun and confusing gray stuff in between the blacks and whites. either way, i’m cherishing these moments now, as they come and as they go. and i look forward to sitting down with you and looking back on it all. just as my mama and i do when her and i visit.
i love you, minka moo. love, mama
*ramona turned one on july 15, 2012. see ramona at other months: eleven, nine, seven, five, three, one, birth. this will be the last monthly letter i publish here for her. i will, however, find other excuses to write her letters and share them with you.*
my dear ramona bean,
be kind and clear and honest in your communications. respect others’ opinions. respect your own: mean what you say and say what you mean. i have certainly said this before.
listen well and thoughtfully.
communication is not just speaking and listening. it is using your whole body and all of your senses and gifts and blessings. it can be something you do by yourself in quiet moments. and something you communicate to the whole world when you create something and share it with others.
i believe you can most effectively communicate when you explore and research the world around you; when you open yourself up to learning new things and meeting new people. touch, taste, smell, see, feel, speak, listen, dance, learn, teach. communicate.
i love you. 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 tessa richardson and were taken at my favorite denver store, ironwood.
ramona marilyn,
my oh my how you have bloomed. this past month was my most favorite yet. your personality is becoming so vivid and so you. you’re a ham, independent, and totally aware of your cuteness. you use that to your advantage. you are curious and loud and a bit impatient. you have spunk and determination and cuddles. you love to sit in laps but no one can stop you from going off exploring. you love to be naked. you love to jump in the pool with all your clothes on. you hate when it is hot and you love to eat ice. you absolutely adore your papa. you drink so much water and your favorite toys are books. you mimic sounds and faces and are quickly finding your voice. you stand on your own. you are not a walker but you can most certainly walk.
your “stranger danger” days were short-lived and you are back to gobbling up attention from any of papa’s and mama’s close friends. this is so fine with us until a crazy lady in front of us in line at our favorite vietnamese bakery held out her arms to you and –though your mama made no hint to offer you to her– you DOVE into them. (who asks to hold stranger’s babies, i will never know. she be cray cray. it was awkward.)
nona came to help papa and i beautify our front yard. you love her! she is so good with you and totally gets you: she engages with you but certainly gives you the space your personality seems to require. she loves to watch you toddle around, making your own voices. she gets that you prefer to start the conversation and always would wait patiently until you did. and then how the two of you would gab! you always wanted to talk to her. i think this unique relationship will be so special and rich even though she lives far away.
while she was here we noticed that you learned to dig in the dirt: squatting you would take your hands and fling the dirt behind you through your bent legs. you had watched me do that while digging holes for the russian sage. you ate some of it but you’re almost over the automatically-putting-dirt-in-your-mouth stage. instead, after digging, you sit there and pour handful of dirt after handful of dirt over your already-muddy thighs; your chubby wrist rolls and teeny finger nails caked with dirt.
you still sleep with us most of the night but papa and i have been letting you figure out falling asleep on your own a little more. some nights are better than others–and overall you’re doing great–but we’re feeling the need for change real soon. this is interesting bc we thought we’d be bed-sharing, or at least co-sleeping, for a lot longer.
you are so so incredibly loved. your one year birthday is next month and i’m having so much fun planning the party for it. yes, honey, i am that mother: there will be coordinating decorations and lots of people. but you know what?: there are so many friends and family close to us that, really, are your biggest fans. so we plan to hold a big shebang to celebrate you. and then, after you’ve gone to sleep, we’re gonna stay up and continue celebrating you! get used to it, honey. 😉
ramona marilyn. you are so spirited and spunky and confident and bright and happy. these traits are important in little girls and i pray papa and i can continue to nurture these parts of you so you can continue growing up filled with confidence and, most importantly, joy.
i love you. love, mama.
*see ramona at other months: ten, eight, six, four, two, birth.*
welcome
