May 30, 2022

Dear Sweetpea,

I’m sitting on the deck on this warm Monday afternoon, Memorial Day, writing to you. Lulu is lying down at my feet and I was shopping for new outdoor furniture for, what I hope will be, our dream backyard. I can hear Alexa playing, "Let me love you,” on the speaker and you’re dancing inside, in the living room.

Your dad just got home and he’s making snacks for us in the kitchen.

I got caught in my head yesterday and felt bad that we spent most of the day at home, you, watching tv; your dad, walking with Lu; and me, scrolling on my phone. By 1:30, we were at the pool. We don’t know if we want, or can afford, a pool in our backyard so I signed us up for a swim season membership at a local community pool. It was our first visit, and it was so fun! It felt great to get out of the house, be outside in the sun - and, off of our devices - and spend some family time together. When we got home, I started scrolling on my phone - and got back caught up in my head - and started feeling guilty and bad about myself. Why? I don’t know.

We had a really great afternoon, splashing around in the pool on a hot day and trying to encourage you to practice paddling to keep yourself afloat. You loved it, being at the pool and playing. I loved seeing you spend some time with your dad. You ordered a soft-serve ice cream at the snack shack before we left to go home and grill hamburgers.

I was still stuck in the morning, before we left the house, and everyone was on a phone or watching tv. I don’t think it’s my responsibility to entertain you 24/7 but, I beat myself up about the fact that I don’t want to. That sometimes I want time to myself, that I want to sit alone and to have no one ask me for anything, for a full day. And because of that guilt - shame, really - I decided to have a drink.

I didn’t go overboard, I didn’t get drunk. But I did get a good, solid buzz going. I was drinking to numb the feeling of shame. I really hate that feeling, it’s so ugly. And so lonely. And so unbelievably uncomfortable. And I feel it a lot.

It often feels like, on some level, that I don’t deserve to feel joy. My life has been pretty easy, without any major obstacles or life trauma. I haven’t had to struggle, really, except with my own inner demons of feeling unworthy, anxious and unlovable. And I feel so privileged to be able to say that, and yet undeserving of the gift that my life really is.

And as I write that, and observe these thoughts pouring out of my head, I realize that it is no one else’s responsibility to help me realize that my life is a gift. And just as I start to feel full of gratitude for my life - this life - you walk out onto the deck and interrupt my thoughtstream.

“We had a pretty fun day, right, Mama?”

“We did,” I respond.

“We went to breakfast together and I had yummy pancakes! With strawberries! And then we got crafts! And I got new swim stuff! And you got a magazine and that sparkle water that you like so much! And I organized my Perler beads! We did a lot of fun things.”

Indeed, we did. I had a great day, too. I’m grateful for the lessons you teach me everyday.

Love,

Mama