long days

It's official eleven months of you growing, eleven months of me learning about the elusive struggles of parenting. First alone just between you and me, and then together between you, me, and papa makes three. It doesn't get easier either, just different. For every celebration of a new milestone and a new strength there comes with it a new challenge to confront that wasn't there before to consider and regard. And so we celebrate the beauty of your strengths and the collide of your budding independence and pride.

We're growing too, though you probably haven't noticed. Walking the fine line of who we used to be and who we want to be, working with what we've got towards who we ought to be and doing the best not to contradict our values or underestimate our goals. It's a long journey and I dearly hope you won't hold it forever against us that we weren't better prepared for task.

It takes a lot of work to get something for free. Long days, long lines, long winded bureaucratic reasons. A class, a lecture, a piece of paper, a number, a call that leads to a call that leads to a call that leads to a waiting list, and the question wondering why I didn't start sooner.

Today we thought we'd begin to realize that we'll have to send you to childcare. I wish we could wait, I've never had to be away from you for that long. I'd never choose it. What if we have to settle for what's available instead of what's quality, instead of what's right. While I've considered creating a co-operative there doesn't seen to be the interest/community/demand... but I'll start rallying the masses and see what the results are. I know there are others that struggle with the same institutions and there's no reason to feel victimized when it could be the opportunity to set out to create a collaborative that meets everyone's needs and helps alleviate the burdened hearts we bury in gratitude for having mediocre services available.

Eleven months and things are starting to feel more like they're falling into place where they belonged a long time ago, although no one had the courage to acknowledge it then.

I admit I'm still terrified of the many things I have yet to face in this journey. I grew up below the poverty line, didn't even have anything to compare it to until I was eighteen. I didn't mean for this to be your beginning, so sad, so shameful, so single. But we are fighting for a future set in stronger foundations. We are building ourselves up to be worthy of your pride. A few days ago your father made me a promise, (he usually forbids himself from giving into promising anything until he is more than certain he can deliver). He promised that you will not need these institutions in your life, that you won't grow up afraid and feeling guilty for your hunger. That he doesn't blame me for needing it now, but that you won't. Small tokens that mean the world on painful days. Long days.

Long days of wondering what love is afforded or deserved. But knowing that we love you with all our heart.

Happy eleven months of shining and guiding!!!