For Our Children

Dear children,

Last week I read this article in the Huff Post about moms being in the picture with their children. Your father-to-be does not like being in pictures at all (as I'm sure you are aware) so I sent him this article as proof that he should let me take more pictures of the two of us being young and happy and in love.

I'm sure by the time you read this you will be well aware that things aren't always perfect between us two. You will know that I tend to stress out over little details and work myself into a frenzy of worrying (you can imagine what wedding planning is doing to me). Fortunately Frank is quite good at calming me down and reminding me about what really matters, although he often gets a little worried about things too. Being engaged to get married while a third-year law student will do that to you.

You know that I'm not very patient and not very organized (although I'm trying oh-so-hard to get better at both!). You will know that Frank does not like large crowds and people being loud, unhelpful, and rude - for example when we went to a special Mass on Sunday that went on forever and had lots of noisy people talking all through the service, which stressed the poor man out to no end. You will know all these things, and probably lots more of our flaws besides.

Despite the little arguments and worries we have, this is a really good time for both of us. Frank is working his butt off with school and his job, but he is almost done and very excited to be wrapping things up. I'm so proud of how hard he works. As for me, I love where I live and I think I have the best roommates (and the best house) in the world. I really enjoy my work as an editor and everything it is teaching me - although I still daydream all the time about being a full-time wife and a mother to you someday. I'm so grateful that your father-to-be shares this dream and wants, as much as I do, to make it a reality.

The funny thing about Frank and me is that, while we are definitely homebodies, we consider every day an adventure. We love to do little things like get pumpkin spice lattes together, or try out a new recipe, or sit and watch classic movies under a warm blanket on cold nights  - and it is in the context of these little things that we are at our happiest. You'll probably think your parents are the most boring, old-fashioned people in the world, but someday we hope you'll appreciate how we try to prioritize our relationship and our time with family, friends, and with God over everything else. I always think of that charming quote from Hilaire Belloc: "From quiet homes and first beginnings, out to the undiscovered ends, there’s nothing worth the wear of winning but laughter and the love of friends." We think we are the luckiest people in the world to have found someone who cherishes these same things too.

We are both planners, Frank and I. Planners and doers and a little bit of perfectionists. We've already started talking about how we want to raise you. We want to give you the gift of a simple life - a childhood free of video games and technological gadgets and a lot of this silly clutter that the modern world gives us. Sometimes when I babysit, I can't believe the piles of pink plastic junk that fills the little girls' rooms, or the way some of the little boys are already glued to the TV screen and can barely function without an iPad movie at bedtime. We want something different for you - something simpler and gentler and more carefree. We're not yet all that clear on how we're going to do that, and we occasionally discuss the merits of Montessori schools vs. homeschooling vs. small classical Catholic schools. We do know that however we raise you, we want to be united 100% on our strategy, and we want to give you the gift first and foremost of knowing that you are deeply and unconditionally loved. We spend a lot of time daydreaming about being parents... although we're a couple of babies ourselves, hardly more than teenagers. But parenthood is something we have both wanted since we were very young. We hope you will know how much you have been wanted and planned for and loved even years before you were born.

Our lives are going to change so much in the years ahead... first with our marriage, and then in the years when we have babies. I know that my happy little, not-yet-married, 23-year-old brain can't even imagine how different my life will look in 10 or 15 years. I do know one thing: your father-to-be is the man I want by my side as we go through all the craziness ahead. He makes me laugh and he's really smart and he just gets me, you know? And he's the best and kindest man I've ever met. It's going to be tough at times... but I know we're going to be happy.

So, dear children, here is a little love note from your future parents. I want you to know how excited we are for you to get here someday. But I also want you to know that we loved each other long before you ever appeared on the scene... and we always will, long after you're gone and have left the nest. With all these pictures and stories and silly anecdotes, I hope you get a little taste of just how much.

Lots of love,

your future mom and dad

Hold Onto This Feeling

Individuals of the male persuasion, turn your eyes away from this post. Thanks!

Two weeks ago I babysat for a family of three.

There's something about babysitting that tugs at my heart strings. Here I am, a single woman living on my own, but for an evening I get to play mommy. I get to take care of the most beautiful little children. I get to play with them, feed them dinner, kiss their little cheeks and tuck them into bed. I never want it to end.

When I babysat last week, the baby was scared of me at first, but in no time at all she was clinging to me. I love those little baby hands that tug at my hair, that pull at the buttons on my shirt. They are so tiny, so endearingly helpless. I put the baby down on the floor as I cooked dinner. She crawled over and held up her little arms to be carried. Every part of my heart melted as I scooped her up with a hug and kiss.

I stood over the stove, the baby on my left hip and a spatula in my right hand, entering the zen state I'm always in when I cook while holding a baby. I must be the strangest 22-year-old ever, because I love that feeling. It's the most maternal, creative, nurturing feeling in the world.

I channeled my inner Mary Poppins for the two older children. "We have three minutes until the toast is done," I told them. "Do you think you can clean up the whole living room in that time?" They nodded eagerly. "On your marks," I said with mock seriousness. "Get set. Go!" They finished just in time for toast, and did a decent job too.

We snuggled cozily on the couch for reading, two children on my lap and one nestled firmly by my side. We were contented, even when the baby fussed from time to time. I was amazed at how happy I felt. I don't think there's any feeling in the world that's better than reading to children.

I used the "You have just one minute..." trick to get them into their pajamas and in bed. I tucked them in tight and crossed my fingers that they would stay put. Then we read more stories and I snuggled the sleepy infant until their mom and dad got home.

What a blessed evening. Full of chaos and confusion and some crying from the baby, but also full of affection, smiles, games, laughter and many hugs.

Sometimes when I'm babysitting, I can't help but imagine what my life would be like if, some day, God calls me to serve Him as a wife and mother.

I know mothering is hard. This article compares it to climbing Mount Everest. I don't have kids and I don't know what that day-to-day, endless, repetitive, self-giving and self-sacrificial experience must feel like for moms.

But I know this: When I get to babysit, when I surround myself with little children and immerse myself in their worlds and their points of view, I'm so happy. Even at its most exhausting, I never get tired of it. I want to do it forever.

Will I still feel this way, if I'm ever a mom?

Will my heart beat a little faster when a baby wants to be held - if it's my baby? Will I enjoy cooking dinner if I have to do it every single night - for my children? Will I treasure story time as much and want to read as many books - when I'm reading them to my babies?

I don't know. I haven't been in that position yet.

But if I ever am in that position, I hope I'll remember how magical mothering felt, when it was something I only got to do occasionally.

I hope I'll love it just as much. I hope I'll remember this feeling, and keep it alive. I hope I'll treasure every moment, if God ever lets me be a mom.

Do I Dare to Dream?

I've trained myself so well in the ways of being single.

I'm cautious with my eyes, my smile. No sense in giving encouragement to men I'll never see again.

I watch my thoughts to stop myself from daydreaming. It's silly to make an imaginary hero out of a guy I barely know. I try to keep from picturing a family, and home life, because sometimes I want these things so badly that even just dreaming them hurts.

I've learned not to get my hopes up. So what if we talked literature at a party and I gave him my email address? I won't hear from him again. I've come to accept this.

I know how to do this "singles" thing. I know how to curb my crushes. I know how to keep myself from loving.

But now. I've met this man.

And I can't help looking forward to seeing him. I catch myself dressing up and wearing lipstick when I know he'll be around. When I'm with him, I don't want him to leave.

I can't help thinking of him when I'm walking to the metro. He creeps into my thoughts as I eat lunch at work. Falling asleep at night, he's the last thought on my mind. Thinking of him brings happy dreams.

When I realize this, I rebuke myself sternly. Don't daydream about him, I tell myself. Daydreaming is bad luck. Daydreams don't come true.

But what am I to think when he seeks me out, day after day? When he whispers to me, "You're beautiful"? When he teases that I'm "perfect" and I see that a part of him believes it?

I've taught myself so well to have low expectations, to hide my hopes, to keep secret my private dreams. After all this careful training... Do I dare to let myself hope? Is it safe to dream?