Catching a shooting star

Dear Jadyn and Liana:

I've known for a week that this letter was coming your way. But, it's taken six days to get here, to this point when I could write it with confidence, with honesty and with peace in my heart.

You see, I really thought that I had this motherhood thing all worked out long before you even arrived. I didn't think I needed to meet you to know how life would be with you here.

I was wrong. I'm making it all up as we go. I might pretend some days to know more than others. There other times, like this week, when I look like I do not know what I am doing at all. In some cases, also this week, I might seem like I do not want to be here at all.

I do, though. Very much. Maybe even too much, which is why I rarely leave your sight.

I whisper in your ears all the time that I will never leave you, always love you, here for you always. And, I mean it. I mean it more than anything.

It is with all of this in mind that I tell you today that I will be returning to work full-time later this summer, I will drop this life we've created together and bring us back to a new starting point where we don't know which way is up.

I do it not for me. I do it for you, for our family. Because I know in my heart it is the right thing to do. It is so. There is nothing to question other than leaving you in the care of others and I'm going to put my faith in this as well.

I've been reading about Personal Legends just for this purpose. I'm still learning, trying to figure out what my personal legend is and why I've been tapped for this job right now when I wasn't even looking beyond today's spilled milk.

You see, this job is not just a job. It's a chance, an opportunity to be a part of trying to make the world a better place for you. For your right now. For your tomorrow. For your friends tomorrows. For when you become a woman, a wife, a mother.

And since jobs like this do not drop in a chocolate-stained mother's lap often, I know enough about personal legends, serendipity, life's chances and luck to know that I should grab this opportunity and go with it. I'm going to ride the wave holding on tightly to you as I flow along, making it all up. If we end up at the end standing side by side with a rainbow ahead of us, then we'll know it was right. If the ride is too bumpy or too scary or too wrong, we can fix it and get things right back to where we are now, where everything is the same and changing all the while.

The funny thing is that to this very week in my life, everything was planned out perfectly. Things didn't always go as planned, but many things did. Some things, including your father and you, came a little later than I planned. But, it all came and I always felt I helped made it happen. But, this week, I actually realized that it's only been with the help of the universe that I've been able to reach these treasures.

It's a curve ball, for sure. I thought you and I would grow up together. And we will; I'll just be letting you grow up with some other people as well. I know you will thrive; I saw it in your eyes today playing with your friends Noah and Logan in a bucket of water. You need to be around other kids; to learn the silliness of childhood, learning to dunk your head in to life and blow bubbles -- things I couldn't make up if I tried.

Everything I've become since the day you were born will remain. The essence of our family, of our souls, the connection we've built will still be here each morning when you wake and each night when you lie down for sleep. We'll cram everything else -- all the art projects and field trips -- into all the other parts of the week.

Basically, I'm throwing it all out the window, hoping that someone in charge of this life will hang on to it all and keep us safe.



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