Tag Archives: Dear Lucy

Dear Lucy on your 2nd Birthday

Dear Lucy,

Happy Birthday, kiddo!  Two!!  I think you had a bang up birthday.  Daddy, Emily, Papa and Gram set up a Yo Gabba Gabba explosion in the kitchen while you took a nap and you were so tickled when you woke up.  It was like you couldn’t believe that all of your buddies from Gabba Land were here for a party.  It is impossible sometimes to tell if you are saying “potty” or “party” so the day was exciting.  You ran through the house yelling “party” while I trailed after you saying “Do you have to go potty, Lu?”

20140120-083023.jpgYou’re such a happy little lady. You’re always smiling.  You are such a menace.  Somedays I think you spend all day developing your crackpot plans for destruction but you mean well.  The delight in your face as someone yells “Oh, Lucy!!!” makes cleaning it all up worthwhile for the time being. Don’t feel like you need to stay in this phase for too awful long.  I will suffer through the momentary sadness when I mention to one of your many doting grandparents “I noticed today it has been weeks since Lucy mindlessly dumped out an entire drawer full of stuff.”

You love your babies with your whole entire little self.  You are frequently walking around the house bouncing a baby on your shoulder saying “Shhh, shh, shh.”  Your babies are busy, too.  They are always napping or crying according to you.  I ask you what they are doing all of the time. I think I ask you what you are doing a lot, too, because in the last month you have taken to constantly asking us “What are you DOING?” in this tone that suggests that whatever we doing is inane.

You are not the most graceful little person.  You have a tendency to crash and burn but nothing slows you down.  If I have to be honest with you, Lucy, your head circumference is off the charts, it’s no wonder you tumble from time to time.  But you never make a peep.  You are back on your feet, onward and upward, in no time.  I hope this “nothing keeps a good woman down” attitude serves you well in your life.


You’re not really a baby anymore.  I mean, you got a bike for your birthday, man. Babies don’t ride bikes.  But I have news for you, Lu, you will always be the baby.  It’s going to drive you totally crazy someday when I hold you extra tight or kiss you in front of your middle school.  But I promise that being the baby will pay off.  You will probably also be able to stay out ten minutes past your curfew someday because everyone knows that the youngest kid in the family has slacker rules as a teenager. And we won’t even talk about the inappropriate movies you will probably get to watch because by the time you are your sister’s age I will have been watching heart-felt animal movies for almost fifteen years and sometimes a girl just needs a break.

Lucy, I love you like crazy.  You haven’t slept through the night a single time in your two years and you still won’t take a nap without a solid twenty minutes of snuggling with your mama in the middle but you know what – I wouldn’t change a thing.  Two years later and I still bend my face down to the top of your head and inhale and think about how these days will pass faster than I can even imagine.

Happy Birthday, Lucy Quinn.  I tell you all of the time, but don’t you forget – you’re a really good baby. And try not to think too much about how I sometimes say it in the same tone of voice that I say “You’re such a good dog” to Fisher.  You two spend a lot of time together but it isn’t like I can’t tell you apart.



Lucy Quinn - Blowing your dad's mind since 2012

Lucy Quinn – Blowing your dad’s mind since January 20, 2012




Uh oh

It’s cute the first time your kiddo says “Uh oh.”

It’s cute the second time, maybe even the third time.

Somewhere around two or three days after learning the word “Uh oh” it dawns on the stay at home parent that “uh oh” is toddler-speak for “Mom, come clean this shit up!” and it becomes infinitely less cute.

This week I did that foolish thing again where I go to the bathroom.  Alone.  I wasn’t gone thirty seconds when I heard “Uh oh” from the kitchen.

I hurried back out to the kitchen and there they were.  Lucy and Fisher.  Covered in baking powder.  Completely covered.

Fish likes to give me this look like he has absolutely nothing to do with what is going on around him.  Like all labs, you can catch him red-handed and he will still do the dog version of shrugging his shoulders.

I didn’t have the good sense to snap a picture before I started cleaning up baking powder.  But even a picture would not have captured the madness.  Dog covered in baking powder.  Floor covered in baking powder.  Baby delighted with herself.  “Lucy!  What are you doing?”  Lucy smiles.  Fish just looks around like he is as innocent as the day is long.  Lucy turns and reenters the pantry and emerges with a handful of dog food.

Kid ratted him out. She knocked the baking powder on the floor while getting him a little snack.  These two are thick as thieves.  Uh oh.


Lucy Goose is ONE!

Dear Lucy,

20130120-133802.jpgLast year I wasn’t sure if it would be possible to love a baby as much as I loved your big sister. Lucky for you – you turned out to be a Lucy, not just a baby. And in one short year my heart has tripled in size.

I am crazy about you, little girl. And the bonus that I never saw coming? I love your sister twice as much as I used to and your dad, too. You are the icing on my cake, sweet girl. Life was sweet before you arrived, but now that you are here – I just can’t imagine our family without you.


So. You’re one. We made it.


I keep writing and writing and deleting. I don’t have words for you, Lucy Goose. You are sleeping in my lap right now. And I can’t wait for you to wake up. I have spent nearly every minute of the last year with you. And all I want is more.

You are a funny little thing. You make me laugh all of the time.


One year ago we left the birthing center in the dark hours of the morning and we came home, the four of us. I’ve never looked back. You have been a sweet and smushy little baby. You nurse like a champ and you hold my hand while you sleep. You are a cuddler. But you are also so independent in your own little way. You have been just a perfect little baby.


In the last few weeks I have started to see the little girl you are going to be. And Lucy Goose, you are trouble. You are funny. Your sister and I are funny, but you? You are a nut. Your squinchy little smile. Your gonna give me a run for my money, I am afraid. There is a reason you didn’t come to me until I had figured this mothering stuff out a little bit.

Happy birthday, Lucy Goosey.  I love you so much I can’t stand it.



I have two daughters. I just realized that today.

I have fallen in love quite a few times.  I love to fall in love.  My heart beats fast and my arms go numb.  Falling in love is exhilarating.

Falling in love happens long before loving someone.  When you are in love the possibility exists that you will fall out.  You will grow and change or feelings will get hurt and hearts broken.  But when you love someone you love them forever, day in and day out for the rest of all time.  You can count on them and they count on you and you know that no matter what ever happens in your lives you will love one another.  Forever.

I fell in love with Lucy when I felt the top of her head.  It was early in the morning on January 20, 2012.  She was not quite yet born.  I felt her head and she slipped back inside me.  I wept.  I called to her.  “Please, baby, please…” I was desperately in love with her in that moment and I needed to hold her to feel my arms around her. I had fallen in love in a moment’s time.  And I have been falling for almost a year.

This morning it changed.

She was sitting on the floor, playing with her pile of noisy stuff.  She was jabbering to herself.  I was sewing Christmas ornaments.  She turned and she looked at me.  She smiled and looked back at her things.  All she did is smile.  But in that moment everything changed.

A few times a day I will say to Emily “Hey, you know what?” and she turns to me and smiles or occasionally smirks and says “You love me?” and I nod.

Sometimes MQD will hand me a cup of coffee and instead of “Thank you” I say “I love you” and what I mean is not just thank you for this cup of coffee but “thank you and I love you and I will love you for the rest of all time.”

And this morning when Lucy looked at me it happened.  The hair stood up on my arms and I realized I loved her.  Forever.  Not my baby Lucy Q that is sweet and warm and sleeps in my arms.  But this person.  This tiny person that will slam her bedroom door some day and break my heart in a thousand ways, I love her.

Little Lucy Quinn, today you are a baby but you won’t be one forever.  In a little over a month you will be a year old and you will officially be a toddler, although you have been toddling around for well over a month now.  Today it struck me that you are already becoming the little girl that you will be in no time.  You looked up at me from your pile of noisy stuff and I said “I love you” and you smiled.

And the hair stood up on my arms and I realized that I will love you until the end of all time.  You’re really here.  Forever.  You are my daughter.  Yesterday I had a daughter and a baby and today I realized that I have two daughters.  You are this tiny person that I love.

No picture today.  I can’t pick one that captures this moment.  But I won’t ever forget it.  It took me eleven months to realize that my baby is here to stay.  I won’t forget it.


A Letter to My Girls


This morning we talked about the election results over breakfast. Emily, you asked me why I was glad that Obama had won and we talked about how you vote for the candidate that you think believes in the things that you feel are most important. We talked briefly about how candidates talk about their platforms and how we all try and make an informed decision.

“How old do you have to be to be president, Mom?” I answered you. I saw your eyes light up. “You could be the president, Mom, you are older than 35!”

I love that you said this.

I am watching the news this morning, Em. The 113th Congress will have at least 19 female Senators. How exciting!

Lucy, by the time you are old enough to talk about politics we just might be talking about what our President’s husband was wearing!

Girls, I don’t talk to you about politics a lot. But I want you to know that I am so very glad that you are being raised in a country that values your voice. It is hard to imagine that your voices will get louder, but they will. My girls, you will become women with loud, strong voices that are heard. I am grateful for this.

Someday when you have your own kids you will understand why Hope is huge. I Hope so big for you both. President Obama said in his speech last night “I have always believed that hope is that stubborn thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us so long as we have the courage to keep reaching, to keep working, to keep fighting.”

I love that you will grow up to be American women. I hope I can lead you by example. Dream big, girls.

I love you,



Give and Take

There is an ongoing debate in my mind. Which kid has it better? Not in the small ways, the day to day Did I give them each the same amount of attention today? Did I accidentally say “Who is the cutest baby in the history of the world??” to Lucy within earshot of Emily? But on the grand scale. Who has the better mother?

Emily had me all to herself. I never put her in her car seat in the middle of her nap to take her sister to gymnastics. She had my whole heart. I wrote her letters every month on the 18th for the first year of her life. Sweet Lucy, you have had to share me from the moment you were born. And I am two weeks late on your Happy Half Birthday note! (See, I can commit to a “note!” Not even a proper letter!!)

But there is a give and take. Lucy got the mother that was confident. That knew what she was doing. Lucy has never slept a night in a bassinet or a crib because I did not doubt that she belongs with me. Lucy hasn’t ever eaten in a restaurant bathroom because I knew from day one that nursing my baby is something I would not ever do in hiding. Lucy’s mother held her tiny little body and soaked her with tears because I could not imagine loving her any more than I did not because I was afraid that I would never love her enough. Lucy shares her mother. But it is a confident mother.

My position as an “experienced mother” will bite me in the ass. I haven’t ever been Lucy’s mother before. And as soon as she moves from infant to toddler and her personality takes shape I will get thrown firmly back in to the camp of Holy Hell What Am I Doing With This Kid?! But for now, it’s easy breezy in our house.

My Little Lucy Girl,

You are a little over six months old and you do not sleep through the night. In fact you wake more now than you did those first few weeks. You roll towards me and grab at me with your warm and often spitty little hands until you find something to eat. You’re far too busy during the day to while away the hours nursing.

You are desperate to crawl and keep up with the big kids. Your dear mother who has never done a “real” push up in her life until recently must be inspiring you. The determination in your face as you attempt to drag that big old head of yours around on your teeny little arms is endearing. You’re trying, sweet girl, and you’ll get it any day now. You make do by rolling around in seemingly haphazard circles towards any non baby safe items in the room. If you do not choke on a Lego before your first birthday I will consider this first year a success.

Moments after you were born we were preparing to bring you home. Hours after you were born we were here. In our house. Our family of four. And it was as if you’d always been here. Your father, who had previously held a baby like it was a ticking time bomb, can now “hold the baby” AND do something else! This is no small feat. Your sister, who was the center of my universe, now proudly shares it with you. I keep waiting for her to wish you away with the goblins like in Labyrinth but she adores you. More than once when I I have selfishly been in the bathroom (alone!) I have returned to find her rocking you, holding you, giving me the stink eye and preparing a lecture about my negligence. Even Fisher fell right back in to his position as the lowest low man on the totem pole, biding his time until you become a never ending source of snacks.

Speaking of snacks, you are not the voracious eater I thought you might be. You’re a big fan of the carrot stick and the piece of celery. A cold slice of apple is equally fantastic in your world. But a sweet potato or a banana? Anything you might actually swallow? No, thank you. So for now, you join us at meals with your cloth napkin to wave around and something cold to gnaw on. Like a gal who just never manages to take home an Oscar you are just happy to be nominated.

This weekend’s avocado may have been a success. I keep finding spots you have smeared it that I managed to not wipe up so less of it may have gone in your mouth than I originally thought but it is a step in the right direction. Again, a perk of being the second kid, I am not too terribly concerned. You’ll eat when you’re ready. Baby-led solids or (baby-led weaning) is not called baby-led because the parent is supposed to agonize over it.

If a child is a product of their environment than you, little lady, are proof positive that our home is a happy place. You smile. And you smile some more. Your laughter is like no other sound. No one is quite as funny as your sister but you have rewarded me on more than a few occasions with a belly laugh I’ll not ever forget. I have said since Em was born that she was my heart. She taught me to love and to love myself in a way I’d not ever experienced. You, Miss Lucy Q, are my greatest joy. You make my days go by so quickly now and my smiles come so easily. I have made what might possibly be the most difficult transition in my adult life, to that of a for the most part stay at home mom, and I have done it all while laughing. You have taught me already to slow down and not take things so seriously. I thought your sister was a ham, but you take center stage.

This week you have traded in your incessant Dadadadadada (a cruel joke that Da comes out of a baby’s mouth so long before Ma does) for the far more hilarious and linguistically challenging bllbr-blllbr-blllbr. The accompanying flicking of your tongue in and out of your mouth is fun for all.

Lucy Goose, you are every bit as silly as your nickname predicted. And every bit the little champ I knew you’d be. You came in to the world with your fist raised above your head and you are asleep in my lap as I type with it raised still. You are going to give us hell one day, I just know it. But I also know we will sit back and laugh about it one day.

Six and a half months. I knew I wanted to marry your dad after only six and a half months but I had to play it cool for a bit longer. But you, I can be unabashedly head over heels in love with you. I love you, Lucy Quinn. You make me laugh. Every single day. And when I hold you above my head and you smile and drool drops in to my eyes I don’t even mind. Keep it up. The drooling might get old eventually but the laughing never will.

Love you, kiddo.