Tag: dear-children

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Contests

MamaBlogga Group Writing Project Finale

Time for the last status report on the MamaBlogga Group Writing Project. We had one more submission last night after my post, which I ended up adding here on MamaBlogga:

That brings our total count of submissions—all most excellent!—to 18. Pretty cool, and pretty good for our first time around!

All entries
Here is the complete list of entries that qualify for the prize:

The winna!
Chosen at random, the winner of our prize, a $30 Amazon.com gift certificate, is <drum roll>…

If We Live Here by Meghan

Congratulations, Meghan! The gift certificate is winging its way to you from Amazon right now! (And we really hope you get that house—let us all know how it goes!)

Still working on your letter? Even though we’ve awarded our prize, we’ll continue to accept, read, link to and comment on submissions through next week.

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Contests

Dear Chewy (Chewster, Chewpac, & all the your other pet names)

by Erin Brown

When you came to live with me almost two years ago, I had no idea I would grow to love you the way I do now. No one could have convinced me that you would cry tears of joy just from seeing me walk through the front day each evening. But you do.

If I’m honest with myself, I’ll admit that it was your love, patience and friendship that got me through my first year of law school. There were soooooo many bad days when I walked home in tears, frustrated from all the reading and confusion and loneliness I felt from leaving my family, friends and previous life. Except I was never alone and you made it your daily mission to bring a smile to my face when I no longer thought it was possible. Some days when I felt exhausted and just needed a hug, I would scoop you up and hold on for dear life. And although I’m sure you weren’t particularly fond of those moments, you never left my side.

Literally. If I grab a book to study after having been at school all day, you jump on my lap or nudge you way into my lap, into my life, to make your presence known. I love how you want to spend every waking moment of your life with me. I love how you run to the bathroom to follow me anytime of the day…or night. And I realized just how much you mean to me when I turned back into the house after hearing you cry inside for what seemed like forever. Maybe it wasn’t the most responsible thing to do, but I wanted to let you know that I hear you Chewy. Although I cannot always play hooky from school to spend mornings in the park, and many times I don’t always have the answers you or I want to hear, I still hear you. I hear you crying.

Everyone we know comments on how you’re a completely different dog now. Your behavior has done a complete 180 and I can only attribute that to love. Sure, you still have your moments when you revert back to the psychotic angry fur ball you used to be, but you still prefer me to anyone in the entire world. And I still rush home after work, or school, or anything to be with you. I’ll hip you to a little secret – it’s not because I know you’re waiting for me either. It’s because I’m longing to see you.

Some people laughed when my own mother gave me a Mother’s Day gift this year (in your name, silly!). And although I look forward to mothering my children one day, I’m more than patient for that time to come. Chewy, you are the only family I have in Virginia, the only one who shows me everyday that I am loved and the only one that I physically do things for to prove my love everyday. I truly feel like I am your mother; clingy at times, a little overprotective, and irritable after a long day with overbearing professors.

Some nights I catch myself just watching you play or sleep or just sitting up late with me and I’m impressed on how we both managed to make our little family work. I’m proud of the way we both turned out, mother and son.

Love,

Ma

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Contests

Group Writing Project — Day Four

It’s the last full day of the Group Writing Project. I’ll still be taking submissions, but if you’re doing it for the shot at the Amazon.com certificate, be sure to submit your entry by the end of today (and as long as it’s Thursday somewhere in the world, I’ll take it—you have seven hours remaining!).

The entries today have been just wonderful! Dig in!

If there are any more submissions tonight, I’ll post the last daily list tomorrow, then the complete list of qualifying entries and the winner on Saturday. (If we don’t get any more entries, I’ll post the complete list and winner tomorrow.)

And as I said before, I’ll continue to accept and link to submissions, probably through next week, but since I’d feel like I let the bloggers who worked so hard to get their letters done this week down, I’ll keep the original deadline as the prize deadline.

Thank you to everyone who’s participated so far! I’m so glad I don’t have to choose the winner on merit; I would be so lost!

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Kids/Parenting Fulfillment Contests

Dear Hayden,

Smiley guyThere are two things that I really do want to tell you.

The first: please don’t be embarrassed by the things I say about you and the pictures and videos I post of you. Ever.

I understand that you’ll be a teenager, but really, I promise, not every teenager has to go through the “everything my parents ever said, touched, did, thought and were is SO STUPID, I’d rather die than be their offspring—maybe I’m adopted?” phase. Or the “MOM!!! NO ONE IS SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT I BATHED NAKED AS A BABY!!!” phase. (But if you do get to be a teenager and are really embarrassed about these photos, we could see how embarrassing a photo of you fully clothed in the shower would be, yes?)

You are a very cute baby little boy. I know I tell you this every day, but you are pretty much the cutest boy ever in the world. Everyone agrees with me (except other moms, but that’s only because I’m too polite to ask them to confirm it 😉 ). I love to take pictures of you. In fact, we had a fun photo shoot just this morning, even though you were more likely to stick your tongue out than smile.

come hitherAnd to be honest, some days, I’m just too lazy (or too far behind on the laundry, which is a product of reason 1), to dress you—especially when I know you’ll just be dirty within minutes. Please just accept that you were a cute baby. I’ll try not to force your baby pictures on all your (girl)friends—but if they happen to come across them on the Internet, totally not my fault.

Speaking of the Internet, on to the second thing I want to tell you: please don’t think I don’t love you just because I sometimes talk about how difficult motherhood has been for me. First of all, in many ways motherhood is getting easier every day. Or almost every day.

I’m sorry that some days I’m not a very good mom. I’m sorry that I’m not patient. I do try—but sometimes that effort doesn’t kick in until after I’ve yelled at you or tried to set you somewhere far away from me so you’ll leave me alone.

But I do love you. And the difficulty of motherhood has only made my love you more. I’ve had to work so hard to get to this point, and sacrificing for and serving you has only made me love you more. I love you. I love holding you. I love being with you. I love watching you play and marvel at the games you invent.

tippy toes

The other day, I picked you up out of your crib. You’d been standing in there and were ready for me to come get you. As I picked you up, your little body remained in a rigid standing position. I pulled you close to me and thought, “I own a small human.” Because you are—you’re a small human: your own person—and you’re mine. At least for now. And I’m grateful to have the “now.”

artsy

Love,
Your mother

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Contests

Group Writing Project — Days Two & Three

Things are moving right along with the Group Writing Project. Here are our latest entries, and once again, they’re all great!

Is yours ready? Submit your entry today—the contest closes tomorrow. (Do you want an extension?)

I have a short letter today. It’s been a long day.Dear Hayden,

Here’s a proposal for you: you can skip over the uncomfortable tween and teens and we’ll just cut to grandkids, okay? Because today I’m not sure we’ll make it otherwise.

Love you,
Mama

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Contests

Group Writing Project — Day One

Things are off to a good start in the first few hours of the Group Writing Project.

In the entries that have been posted so far, we already have a wide range of formats and stories shared—and they’re all great. So take a look at our first four entries and maybe discover some new friends:

Is your submission ready? Fill out the form!

Not in an introspective mood? Here’s the letter that I most wanted to get off my chest:Dear Neighbor Children,Many of us manage to learn from our mistakes. Many of us are forced to make the same mistakes several times before we learn. Since apparently that’s not working for you, let me just tell you something:

THAT CAR ALWAYS HAS THE ALARM ON. ALWAYS. And especially on Sundays while my son is trying to take his nap. So just stop trying to get into it. Nothing’s that important. Just leave it alone.

Love,
Jordan

PS—Pass this along to your parents: Look, your kids don’t seem to get that the car alarm is always on. Either stop keeping stuff that they need during my son’s naptime in that car or keep the keys handier so that you can shut off the alarm in less than three minutes. Really, you don’t live in that big of a house that it should take that long to find them, especially since every Sunday for three months your children have set it off.