An old letter I wrote May 18, 2010

Dear Jackson,

It was a rough day today. I’m sure it hasn’t helped that we’ve been in Paris for ten days and we just got back three days ago. You seem to take awhile to shift back into routine, which is hard on everyone. Granted I have a hard time with it too, so don’t think it’s just you. It’s an age thing.

I’m reading this book called, “No More Christian Nice Girl.” It was sent to me to review and I wasn’t very interested at the beginning of the book, because I’m not a wishy washy girl. I’m very good at saying no when it involves filling my plate. But as I keep reading more and more, I’m realizing that I do have some issues. Confrontational issues. I grew up very much inside myself. I never spoke out when I was hurt, angry, sad or didn’t like something. Life was living on eggshells. And I kept losing friends. I tried to be the way they wanted, talk about what they wanted to, do what they did, but sometimes I’d let my true self come out and they’d go walking. I think the worst insult was in high school from Louise, when after being friends since grade 2, she told me I was not a good friend. And I still don’t know why she stopped talking to me. People then began to think I had a short fuse and wouldn’t tell me things because I’d react badly.

Today we had your kiddy pool filled up. And I dared you to jump in, even though the water was cold. You just laughed and jumped in ten times in a row. Laughing the entire time. Before that you had put on some rollerblades that were given to you because you wanted to try them. And at the daycare at the gym, a boy was misbehaving and he was in time out. You told me that he kept calling out to you to come join him but you knew you weren’t supposed to. So after three times you said you went and told his mom. It just blows my mind how at 5, you know right from wrong. And you always pick right.

You are so brave. You are so unafraid. You aren’t afraid of anything. I envy you. I’m still afraid of things. I wish I knew how to hop a fence. Or climb through a car window really fast like they do in tv.

And I’m so proud of you at the same time. I love that you just are who you are. And I hope you never change that. Because you are marvelous and wonderful just the way you are. I’ll do my best as your Mom, not to make you walk on eggshells. To help you be brave all the time. To always encourage you to be who you are meant to be. I will be tough sometimes, because I have to be and it’s my job. But I will always seek God’s counsel. And I pray you will too.

I love you babes.




Today is my birthday. Dad’s saying I’m 29. That works for me.

I woke up to find Frappucino and baby Smedley on the bedside. You brought up flowers (yellow gerbers and a kelanchoe), and bought me pink stone earrings. I wore them today.

We went to the CP hospital book sale, where I bought three books and five Archie Comics. Then we went to Michael’s to buy lights, but the coupon didn’t work and the manager was rude.

Then we went to Dave’s Drum Shop. You tried out two sets of drums and we secretly bought you a drum kit. You lost your mind when you went down to the basement. You’ve been playing for half an hour now and I can hear it all over the house.

Hey Jack.

You’re really good at it.

I love being your mom.