An Open Letter to the Father of my Son

Hi,

I don't even know how to greet you. Hello seems much too formal for someone who I share a child with. Though, maybe that's a good thing. Keep it unemotional. But how do I keep it unemotional? Maybe 'hey'. Nope. Too nonchalant. A letter of this gravity and emotional weight shouldn't be preceded by a 'hey'. Your name? No, it's been too long since we've communicated. Just sounds....unfamiliar.

You know, he's going to be three on Saturday. He's this whole person already. He's starting to come into his own. I see an adorable attitude emerging. He's rambunctious, like you. In the 1090 days I've spent with him, I still find any resemblance to you unsettlingly painful. I am left with a myriad of secret longings, which I would, of course, never tell you about. I would like to see pictures of you as a baby, a toddler, a schoolboy. Did he look just like you? Because in my baby pictures, I see so much of his face. I would like to visit the place where you come from, drink wine with your parents, to take a photo of you and I. If I were him, I'd want a photo of my parents together. Mostly, though, I want to know why you're not there for him, why he won't receive so much as a post card from you this weekend.

Anyways. I wonder what you're feeling. Right now, in this moment, and in all the moments of all the days since I last saw you.

Did you shield yourself from feeling pain when we moved so far away? Did you feel overwhelmed and stripped? Like you didn't know what you were supposed to do anymore? It's okay, you know. It's natures way of shielding you from feeling it all at once. Did you know in your heart that it was for the best? Did you take it personally? The more you thought about it, the stronger you were getting. If you knew it or not, you were getting stronger.

Were you angry? Angry at me for moving, for giving up on our relationship? Because he could've used you sticking around. I hope not, because you know we weren't getting along, and because your relationship with him shouldn't be affected by your relationship with me. Because he deserved your effort. Are you angry that you don't know him? Are you angry with yourself? If you are, don't let it keep you away. The door has been and will always be open. Please, if even the smallest part of you wants to, take the opportunity.

Did you run through the 'what if's and the 'if only's? I can tell you that there's very little merit in regret, but maybe you needed to think those things. Maybe you needed to process everything. I hope it didn't just find fault you or I, or what you thought should've been done differently. I'm sorry for the hurt you must've felt. He is a beautiful, smart, weasel-his-way-into-your heart kind of kid. I can't imagine what you felt.

Are you sad? Saddened because you aren't going to be here? Because you haven't been? Because of everything you've missed? Because of everything you will miss? His strong, soft little fingers tugging on your shirt, his shy smile hiding below the edge of the crib, with just his baby blue eyes glimmering at you from his dim room. His sloppy, wet, perfect kisses. His belly laughs, discovering his skills. Hell, mastering those skills? Feeling him sleep next to you. Hearing him sleep next to you. Are you sad because you didn't experience those things? I know we talked about them. I know you were excited.

Are you hurt? Hurt that I made it difficult by moving? Because you didn't stop me. Your phone calls and messages got fewer and further between. Your family stopped sending him gifts, then cards. Are you so hurt that you said things about the mother of your child, that you probably shouldn't have said? I hope not. Did I hurt you in the process of doing what was best for our boy? I didn't mean to. I really sincerely did not mean to.

I hope you wallowed for a while. I hope you allowed yourself to experience those feelings. It's the only way to get through them. But I hope you didn't let it destroy you. When he goes looking for you, I hope he finds a good, kind, accomplished man. I hope you don't let your time away from him slip away from you. Do something worthy of that gorgeous boy asleep in his bed right now.

I don't think I will ever understand why you removed yourself and your family from his life. Even if I were the absolute worst human being on the planet, he's still your son. You were there before he was born, feeling him kick, coming up with names. You put his crib together with me. You carried baby gear into the house. You were there when he was born, you were there when I was up all night sobbing because he wouldn't latch on. You were there singing inappropriate music to him and dancing that shimmy dance to 'Black Betty'. You changed his diapers and fell asleep with him, giving into the exhaustion. You dreamed a whole life for him.

How could you walk away from that?

What would you want me to tell him about you? What would you want me to say about you, when he asks? Because he will. I will answer his questions, and let him make his own mind up about you. Maybe you'll be back in his life by then. Even if just in some minimal way.

You have a beautiful son. One that has your ears. He's happy and healthy. I made sure he always had what he needed. Doctors and therapies and interventions (because you weren't there for the diagnosis, and the rollercoaster involved. I could've used you there. He could have used you there), I made sure he had them all. I fought hard for your boy. I will always fight for him. But I can't ever fill the void you left, no matter how hard I try. And I will never be able to tell him why you're not there, because to be honest, I can speculate, but I have no fucking idea.

So, I hope you're good. I hope you're happy, and achieving, and pursuing your dreams. I hope you're using your time to better yourself and be worthy of the son you don't know. Because he deserves that. I hope you're not hurting or sad. I hope you wonder about him. I even hope you worry. After all, isn't that what fathers are supposed to do?

Meet Reggie

So it's been quite a while since I talked about anything planner related. I've just been overwhelmed and switching around...a LOT. I'm finally comfy in this gorgeous guy. His name is Reggie. 

Isn't he GORGEOUS!!! He's from Filofax. I chose the A5 sized Regency in Black. Now if only it wasn't a compact, I feel like we'd be soulmates.

There are so many pockets and compartments, but they're laid out well. And yes, that's right, TWO elasticized penloops! The front has 3 card slots, and 3 longer slots. In addition, the front has two pockets behind these slots, much like the Kate Spade Wellesley. The back has two pockets like this as well as a note pad spot. I use the bottom pen loop to support the mail I need to attend to in the slot meant to hold a note pad. 

I'm really trying to keep these 'cute' things to a minimum. The things that don't serve much of a purpose and aren't sentimental. The eye candy, if you will. Don't get me wrong, I have s o m e. Just not sections full.

The last really cool thing I wanna mention, is this folder from sequinsandpaper on etsy. I put my business card holders in it and tie it shut. It makes me feel like this information is more protected that way. 

Anyways, I've placed a few orders recently and I'm so excited to unbox them for you. Stay tuned, loves!

What planner do you use? What are you loving about your system?

IEP Meeting Aftermath

AHHHHHhhhhhh!!! I made it through the IEP meeting mayhem. Well mostly anyhow. I still need to sign the final IEP, but we rejected once and got almost everything we asked for. I hear this is kind of a miracle. 

It wasn't without struggle, though. We were first started down the road of Individualized Education Plans in MARCH. The school district came out and did some evaluations. Speech, OT, PT, the SPED teacher, and of course, the BCBA. We had our first IEP meeting where I was so overwhelmed by everyones genuine desire to help my son, that I let a few things slip by me. Right now, Bubs isn't speaking yet, and we're still trying to help him nail down a consistent way of communicating with us. SOOOOO, I when I saw that he was only going to have two sessions with speech and both of those were going to be co-treats, I decided that wasn't enough. There were also several other sections that weren't even filled out yet. They had also asked me to sign a consent for an extended evaluation. I didn't mind that at all, but there was no way I was accepting an IEP without placement included. I exchanged emails several times, and it seemed more time was passing between each reply. I grew more and more frustrated and eventually cc'ed the Director of Special Education. 

Long story short, we ended up having a very productive meeting. They ended up CREATING a sub-separate classroom for him. In addition, they decided to hire a CNA full time. I suppose it would end up being the most cost effective thing for them, but regardless I was IMPRESSED. I won't go into too much more detail about the paperwork but I will say this...

HOW THE HECK DID MY KID GET TO BE SO OLD!?

Now that the IEP madness seems to be more or less over with, I can focus on the fact that the reason he needs an IEP is because he will be three. Ay yi yi... We're going back to school shopping for the first time tomorrow. I'm both happy and sad. Motherhood gives me mixed emotions? Weird right? 

When he was first born, I couldn't imagine his 3rd birthday. I didn't know at the time that he would start full days in school at 3. I assumed it would be 5 or 6. I thought if I could make it to 5 or 6, then things would calm down. I could have a little more time for myself. I would never have guessed that he would start so early. In a few weeks he'll be gone for a good portion of the day. I'm trying to figure out what to do with my time, but also trying to decide what our new routine will be. I'm going to miss him SO much, but I am SO excited for this next chapter in our lives. The school years. 

Hey, out of shape girl.

Hey, you, out of shape girl.

Yes, you. The one staring into the ground when you run to avoid meeting the eye of the other people you pass. The one with earbuds in, avoiding letting yourself fully be a part of the environment around you. I see you wincing with each breath. I see you pumping your arms to propel you forward. I see you persevering. Even underneath the too many layers you used to cover up your body.

The one in the back of the class, dripping with sweat. Tilting your head back running through the list of reasons you came tonight. Running through your WHY. Why you went despite your anxiety. Why you did it anyways. 

The one who works out at home, letting your grunts of pain and effort out. The one taking more breaks than time spent working out. Silently (or not so silently) cursing at the trainers on the screen. Collapsing when the workout ends. I see you. And I have something to say to you. 

You are amazing. Truly.

If you’d just reach out to me, and take that hard step, you would know the reverence and respect I have for you. The journey you've begun is tremendous. I could tell you JUST HOW CLOSE you are to a deeper sense of happiness, health, confidence, hell....freedom. The life you will receive from your consistency will far exceed the monumental struggle you feel now, to face your fears and to bravely set yourself in motion, in front of others. To LEAD without even really intending to.

You have already begun your transformation. You no longer accept this physical state of uncomfortability. You have taken the BIGGEST step to propel you forward into a lifestyle you can't even begin to imagine. Each day, the movements become more fluid. You can hold a little longer, lift a little more, push a little harder.  Each time you get up, and show up, you take one baby step (of incredible significance) toward this thrilling place. A place where you hold yourself to a higher standard, but give yourself GRACE. Where you understand your body better, and make better decisions for it. A place where you feel so profoundly happy, that you cannot imagine ever going back. 

You’re an inspiration to me. And, if you’d give me a few moments of your time, you would know that I and so many others, the ones that probably make you feel so inadequate, stare in awe of your determination. They, of all people, know best where you are coming from. Do you know how many are still saying, "I'll start tomorrow"? Yet here you are, day after day, giving it your all.

You are a bossbabe (or bossman), and no one can take that away from you. You are relentlessly and consistently taking the steps towards your goals. You are stronger than you think, and you are about to be so very amazed by what you can DO. One day, very soon, maybe tomorrow, you’ll see a photo, or do something you haven't done in a while and it will suddenly just click. You will not believe your own progress, you will realize that you CAN do this! And suddenly you will find that the goals you had set for yourself, were set FAR too low!

I bow to you. I support YOU. And you know what? I WAS you. 

Every ounce of my love,

Erika