My sweet daughter turned two on 15 August.  It was the weekend of GenCon of course, and the house was full of guests (the way I like it).  “You’re still going to Gen Con?” people said, a twinge of disapproval in their tone. “Yes we are!” I cheerily replied.  After all, I wasn’t just dragging her around in a feeble attempt to maintain my hobby; I actually registered her into a kid’s event where she made a handprint from special clay.  She looked around with wonderment.  She wasn’t afraid at all; more like, inquisitive and absorbing.  I wonder at what age she’ll realize that these 30,000 people aren’t all in Indianapolis for her birthday.

Gen Con Birthday Girl

Ainsley fearlessly walked in the crowds and it’s a wonder she wasn’t pushed aside.  I haven’t been able to carry her due to my hip injury but she loved navigating the crowd.  She then perched atop Jason Siadek’s shoulders to get a better view of her party.  She soaked it up and loved when people stopped her to take pictures.  The differences this year have been huge.  Last year, she barely walked; this year, she ran and talked and looked and talked and and and.  I was so happy to see her enjoy the day.  After the clay sculpting, we headed to PF Changs where she ate everything in sight and had her first French conversation with someone other than me (thanks again to Mr. Siadek).

Look at this lovely party all for me, Mr. Siadek!

She’s been doing great at understanding both languages.  My French is really terrible and it’s hard to keep up with the absorptive powers of a young mind, full of mirror-neurons just waiting to learn.  The problem is that while everyone in her life supports the concept of a bilingual child, nobody really likes the practical application.  I get eyerolls from friends and jabs from family.  I must admit…I’m probably annoying.  My French is bad, and of course, nobody else around Ainsley can speak it, so to them I sound like a pretentious snot, plus it’s terribly rude to speak another language around people who don’t know it.  I’ve almost given up the fight a few times, then

Cochon, Chien, Lapin, Kolala!

Ainsley reminds me why I’m doing this by saying things like “Mommy says ‘je t’aime’ to say ‘I love you.'”  I’m not trying to prove anything.  I’m using what I know to provide her brain with new things to learn every day.  Her favorite book, Green Eggs and Ham, is also on the shelf as Les Oeufs Verts au Jambon.  She almost always asks to read both in a row and calls one book Sam-I-Am and the other Sam-C’est-Moi.  She even took both of them for quiet time, and spent over 20 minutes comparing them, page by page, to understand the differences.  I’m so happy she is interested and as long as she still wants me to read in French, I will endure the criticism and give my little girl the opportunity to learn more than one language.

2008 Beach

We are in Charleston again on vacation, and we’ve spent some time at the beach.  I couldn’t help but compare the photos this to the photos from just ten months ago.  Yep, she’s wearing the same swimsuit!  This year, the sleeves don’t need to be turned up and the bottom fits her little legs, hitting just at the knee.  I also loved seeing the difference in her activities.  Last year, she was entranced by sand only.  This year, she’s taking in the ocean (even though it scares her) and waving at the far-off moon (see the photo at right).

Beach 2009

She is increasingly open to people and says hello to many. “I’m jumping in the pool!” she’ll happily exclaim.

I’d like to pretend that I wanted this post to be totally retrospective, and to compare the photos you see.  But really I have been too busy to blog.  (I will bet money my only readership is through FB.)  The fact is this: any time one says “I’m too busy,” it really means, “I’m putting my time into other things.”  Sometimes the “other things” are the heart of life, like reading or cooking with my Ainsley.  Sometimes the “other things” consist of drowning in details and forgetting true living.  Are the dishes clean?  Did I finish that presentation for work?  Have I made a hair appointment?  It’s discouraging to me that I so often forget my promises to myself.  I have started to drop

Snuggling with Friends

everything more, and to focus on the simple.  No more working on weekends (even if I only worked while Ainsley slept).  No more worries if my house looks perfect or my hobbies are flourishing.  Time to focus on the little things, which quickly add up to be the only big things.

You’ll recall from my last Ainsley post that she and I struggle to understand each other.  We still fight and the tantrums are worse.  I learned recently that I really do let her whine, and she knows how to push me.  It’s incredible how intuitive she is.  I’m learning to stop and educate, and sometimes, to just leave and let her cry it out if she needs it.  I’m giving more clear instructions and sticking to them.  In short, I’m giving her the tools to make the choices in life that she can make, and explaining those things where she doesn’t get to make the choice.  During tough conversations I often revert to English because it’s faster; now, I’m trying to slowly explain in both languages, so she doesn’t associate my English with hard times.

Grinning

The Montessori method is still a huge part of our household, and Ainsley’s teacher makes a big impact there.  She’s not only Montessori trained but also has a gentle, loving spirit that is certainly impacting Ainsley’s worldview in a positive way.   She gives me ideas for activities, encourages my creativity, and looks at things differently, challenging me to incorporate education into every day and also to stop trying so hard sometimes, and simply to be with my daughter and watch her explore.  Ainsley also has a second, part-time teacher, who adds another unique dimension.  Ainsley has so many people in her life who are all cheering for her.

KiteFlyingAEB

Ainsley flew a kite today!  It was her first real flight and the kite was so high she was a bit scared.  I think she knows that in her favorite book, Tiny Bear Goes to the Fair, the kite-flyer is taken into the air my the kite.  She even mentioned little Tiny Bear.  After mentioning him, she handed me the string and told me to do it.

I’m trying to start incorporating more charitable work.  Sure, we pray, we go to church, she has love for animals, but it’s time for her to do things like go to animal shelters and help.  Even if I’m doing the work while she giggles at animals, it’s a good habit for her.  I have been too “busy” to do several things with my friend Amy and I want to do better. I only wish our beloved Khyati were still here, lending her brightness and love and experience.

Surely I’m overthinking all of this.  I know it.  But I can’t let any more moments pass unnoticed, in this amazing life that is Ainsley.

My relationship with Ainsley has never been at one speed. We move from gentle moments to funny ones, then struggling. The struggles are hard for me.

At the beginning of January, she experienced a time when “no” was the only word she knew. Everything was no. But it wasn’t just willfulness; she would say “no” to something she actually did want and then cry, confused by her own answer. All I could do was be there and not allow her frustration to frustrate me. My sister helped me re-center and concentrate on being Ainsley’s constant source of peace and acceptance.

I speak only in French to her and I love to read her books. I also love to roll around on the floor and make her giggle. I love to feed her freshly made, organic foods of many cultures; I laugh and comply when, after dinner, she repeats, “cookie? Cookie? Cookie?”

But our relationship is still far from ideal. She cries when Daddy isn’t in the same room. Last night, I took a running leap into Carlton’s arms. She cried; I got down to include her in a three-person hug. She only wanted Daddy and pushed me away. We realized that she was jealous that Daddy was holding me, not her.

She also delights in pulling my hair or scratching my face. We do gently but firmly correct her, telling her it isn’t acceptable, but she is still doing it.

It’s very hard to write this. Being a parent is my number one job, and my client doesn’t like my work. I guess I’m writing this so that other mommies out there who may struggle similarly can know they aren’t alone.

Every day with her is a gift. I’m not shallow enough to let her rejections harden me against her. The moments when she is the most difficult are the ones when I most need to be caring and loving. When I am alone with her, we have wonderful times and I get to see her sassy and sweet little self. She’s comprehending English and French; she speaks words clearly and is stringing together ever-longer sentences. She is wonderfully compassionate with animals and children. She is excelling at learning to dress herself and excitedly helps put on her “show-sooorss.” I love watching her clean her tray or sweep the floor carefully.

My dear sweet Ainsley, I love you more every day. I hope that my constant love and acceptance now will help you understand you can always rely on me.

So here I am again, trying to encapsulate what it’s like to be in the life of a growing child.  I’m afraid that trying to sum up everything isn’t going to work tonight.

A quick story, then.

The past few weeks have been a string of difficult days.  Ainsley is strong and bright and independent…and a Daddy’s girl.  I dislike labels like that; they pit one parent against the other and don’t help strengthen a family.  But in this case it is so true it hurts.

Ainsley loves her fun daddy.  He makes her laugh but is still firm when she needs guidelines.  I am not as good at being silly.  As a result of many factors, she’s started to like anyone but me.  She never wants me to hold her even though every other blood relative is worthy of the honor.  She panicks and throws a tantrum when she’s left alone with me.  She barely hugs me and won’t smile at me very often.

Imagine, if you will, sacrificing yourself for the life of another person and then experiencing utter rejection.  I expected she’d reject me when she was eight or fourteen, but not so young.  I have questioned everything I do.  I won’t go into my parenting methods here, because I don’t think what I’m doing or not doing is the problem.  The problem is a matter of her feelings toward me and it’s a different pain than any I’ve felt.

Writing this post has even been hard.  How can I admit to the world that I’m not that great of a Mom?  Maybe I’m good at providing nutrition and at educational opportunities and a fun activities, but not so good at being somebody’s mommy, the person who loved them more than anyone else ever will, the person that any baby would want in a time of need.

I admit that this cold front has made me not do as well at parenting.  My sister reminded me that people, especially children, need my patience when they deserve it the least.  So I’ve been trying to improve and to open myself to Ainsley even when it hurts so much I can’t talk about it.

It’s working!  In the past few days, Ainsley’s started to hug me again and to want to be with me.  I’m still not her favorite person but she is at least taking me back in her social circle.  She awoke screaming in her sleep last night and I cradled her for an hour and a half while she settled into slumber again.  I could have stayed there all night, but she sleeps better in her crib and me in my bed.  I remember thinking at the time that I would have balked at losing sleep for any reason!

These pictures were taken by me when Ainsley was starting to sleep soundly again.  I took these them with my eyes closed, but I hope you can see what these moments are.  They are a mother who loves her child enough to break down any wall and do anything.

I was raised in Indiana, but I was born in Charleston, South Carolina.  We moved to Indiana before I was old enough to remember anything; however, we return to Charleston for vacation frequently and still have family friends here.  Every time I come here, I feel a tug to live here.  I applied for a job at a chemical company here and ended up not taking the job; I’ve kicked myself for that decision!  I really feel at home here more than anywhere else.

I always felt special to be born here.  When people ask and I tell them, they invariably gush about a visit or experience of Charleston, and the charm it holds on them as well.  I was born here because my dad had moved here for a job.  My parents have mixed Charleston emotions.  My dad was working a lot and my mom was alone with two children under 5 years old and a newborn baby (me).  Despite the challenges, whenever our family visits here, there are more fun stories.  I love to hear about my parents driving to the beach for the afternoon:  they had three small children and enough gear to set up camp for weeks.  I played in the sand or in a playpen.

So when we decided to take a vacation, our little family of three decided to make the long drive to my home.  This picture was taken just a few minutes after we arrived in our seaside condominium after driving all night (I was relieved to have slept a whole hour).  The scent of the marsh, the salt-corroded signs, the first view of the ocean- all of it hit me in a new way this year.  Why?  Because I have a daughter.

This picture is typical- Ainsley loves to give Sunny treats! Today I took Ainsley for a 4k walk/jog along the path in the community where we stay (Sunny’s heart condition is too bad for her to make that long of a trip).  I showed her other streets where we’ve stayed and I told her stories of those trips.  This afternoon, I took sweet Ainsley to the ocean for the first time.

I didn’t realize how emotional it would feel.  I realized that I was her age and I played on this very beach.  I let her wander and collect shells and seagrass stems.  She proudly showed me her finds and put them in a bowl.  We sat on the beach and played.  At one point, she giggled and gave me a big handful of sand, so proud to give it to me.  I took the sand but explained to her that this beach was not mine anymore- it belonged to her.  As I said it, tears unexpectedly welled in my eyes.  I wasn’t planning some big speech to her but when she handed me that little piece of beach I felt so much wistful joy.

I always feel a bit insignificant when I’m in a natural setting and see the amazing beauty God gave us.  But today? I was completely insignificant.  I realized that I have passed the torch to the next generation, and that for the rest of my life, I will stand in the background while Ainsley takes over the world.  I also realized that despite my insignificance on the stage, my part in preparing the new lead is far from over.  Every parent must feel this sense of duty to show their child the world, and to give them a worldview that allows the child to grow and learn and become the next generation.

My dear, sweet, darling daughter.  I love you and I hope that I will have the privilege of standing in the wings and letting you take the world as your stage.