Category Archives: Letters

Dear Miss Laurie – February 2013

 

Dear Eva aka. Miss Laurie,

 

Ten days ago you turned 3.

We woke you up, told you that you were no longer two and you practically said, “I think that’s pretty good. Three.” As if you had come to terms with it, had analyzed it and decided it was something you could live with. You accepted the idea of your age like it was the best interest rate your mortgage broker could get you.

Your locks are golden, your legs are long, you’ve obtained purple glasses and you lied to the checkout woman at Countdown by saying I farted, when I DIDN’T! that was an outright LIE Eva! The worst thing is EVERYONE believes three year olds, they’re as honest as the day is long. Except you in this moment, when you proved to me that you’re gonna make a great Lawyer one day.

Today is my birthday and within the first 10 minutes of waking you screamed “Herpy burrday Mummy” in 5 different ways, it was beautiful. I love how the veins on the side of your head throb and the earth shifts in orbit with such joyful exertion.

Right now you are yelling “NO DADDY!, MUMMYS HOLY!” – it doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to. You’re a fighter babe, I can see you fighting for justice in that courtroom already. My early retirement ticket…

It delights my heart when I watch just how much you want to be like me, we have to do our hair and nails TOGETHER. But even more so, how much the idea of wearing a dress is like someone telling you they’re gonna shout you a 10 day all expenses paid trip to Disneyland. The joy in your eyes is like you have just ‘seen’ for the first time after being blind your whole life.

Everyone that knows you, knows you dance. Our biggest joy is encouraging you to be your “Lively” self. Sundays are so much more fun with you in our lives, Worship is a dance party to you. I’ll be lying if I say it doesn’t make me emotional watching you.
I can imagine revival coming from the babies… with little people like you dancing and over throwing environments and atmospheres with your simple joy and love – we won’t have to teach you to change your thinking… we just need to teach you from day one to live in fullness… to keep doing what you’re doing and knowing that what anyone else thinks of YOU (especially in the midst of your Worship) is none of YOUR business. To live everyday walking hand in hand with your Papa in heaven, however that looks. ‘However that looks’.

6 things I’ve so far learned in my 20’s:

  1. Money is important but not the end goal. Keep your hands open, one that gives and one that receives…Your Daddy and I are believers in the idea that giving isn’t ‘giving’ until you feel it… it’ll amaze you to see how much you are blessed when you bless others.
  2. Compare negative words or thoughts with your own truth. They won’t measure up, so don’t believe them, delete them from the memory bank.
  3. A flourishing garden of friends is better than a weed ridden bunch… keep your circle open because everyone needs friends… nurture the quality and rid the weeds.
  4. Sunscreen is underestimated. Slop that stuff on like it’s mayonnaise and you are the bread. Wrinkles are cool when you earn them with age, not with sun damage. As much as Melanoma sounds like a tropical fruit, it is something to beware of… just like poppy seeds on bagels.
  5. Embrace your body, work with what you’ve got… trust me, the sooner you accept that you and every other person are different in looks, shape, weight – the more time you’ll have to be happy and the more time you’ll have for the things that matter.
  6. The best ever investment you could make is the investment into your relationship with God. It will never give you a bad return. Think about it, the more time you spend with someone, the more you begin to learn about them. The more deposits you put into a good investment, the more it has benefits. The more you sow into something, the more you reap.
    This isn’t a ‘works’ thing, as in you look at it like ‘I need to do stuff to get to know God more’ – no… stay away from that train of thought.
    Going deeper in your relationship (with anyone), there is a natural overflow of doing things because of your love for them… I love your Daddy, it’s natural to tell people how much of an awesome guy he is, because I love him… because being with him blesses me…. the same with our heavenly Father. Sow in to your relationship, let that overflow happen, if people are uncomfortable with you stepping out in such ways, don’t be discouraged, just be glad you’re doing something and ‘catching that bus’. (That’s another blog post all together). Pray for the ones who stare. That they will find freedom and liberation too… even if it comes by watching you walk in it. You don’t need anyone elses permission to ‘step out’.

My little Miss Laurie, you’re so girly but so tough. This morning you were break dancing on your colouring book, lost footing and scored some mean carpet burn on the back of your thigh, you flinched, and then shrugged like it was no big deal, just a little flesh wound. And then you reminded us about that one time you crashed your helicopter in ‘Nam. You’re so cool, you’re like those cool guys that don’t look back at explosions. You are my favourite person. Your dad is also my favourite person. I checked the ‘New Zealand Constitution’ and the Bible and there isn’t a single word in there about it being illegal or immoral to have multiple favorites. But you are, you’re my favourite person.

I love how you wake me up in the morning and ask me to sing songs about Icecream and flowers. I love how you sing me songs about Milo drinks and dresses. How you blame your own farts on others. How you want to help me with everything. How you camp out in stealth mode, waiting for the very moment your dad or myself  walk over to sit on the couch, only to ambush us and launch your long Dutch/Maori body on to the very seat we were about to sit in like you we’re throwing yourself on to a grenade Bruno Mars style. How you say ‘Hi’ to EVERYONE. How you call every older woman with grey hair “Grandma”.  I cannot contain your spirit, not that I would want to. But watching you maneuver through life makes me think you are on to something….

You make me feel like I’m doing something right.

I love you forever Eva Laurie, you make me smile everyday.

 

xx

Happy 29th Birthday to Daddy from Eva

ALL ABOUT MY DADDY

By Eva, recorded before her 3rd birthday

My Daddy’s name is NEENIL

He is 2 FEET TALL

He weighs 3 KG

Today he turns 5

His hair colour is YELLOW & BROWN

His eyes are GREEN

His favourite TV shows are DIEGO & BUBBLE

He likes to go ON THE BIKE

His favourite food is MY TOAST & CAKE

His favourite drink is JUICE

For fun he likes to GO ON A HOT SLIDE & EAT MY MEEMITE TOAST

I love it when my daddy HOLDS MY HAND

My favourite thing about daddy is DANCING WITH HIM

One of the many reasons it’s easy to love Mr Gadget

One of the many reasons it’s easy to love Mr Gadget.

Mr Gadget wrote me a letter before we met and read it aloud to me for the first time infront of 130 people at our Wedding reception (all together now, awwwww).

It reads,

“9/12/04

Dear girl of my dreams.

If/When we finally meet, and in Gods grace, walk down the aisle together, please note that you have made me the happiest man alive!
I write this letter to no particular girl in mind and although I may have fleeting crushes before we meet, know this letter is souly for you.

It has been written on the desk I have prepared many sermons on, in a room where I have communed with God, in a place where I have so far felt the closest to God… India.

I write this letter not to impress your family, but I write it as a promise and dedication to you and you alone.

Though I may have crushes, I promise not to act on them unless the crush I have is for you, and that God gives me the green light.

I am not the most patient man in the world, but with Gods help I will wait for his guidance.

Though my testimony tells I have not lived a completely pure life, I pray forgiveness from you and dedicate myself completely to you. Hands down. No questions asked.

Though I may not know who you are yet, I formally promise and dedicate my life, body and love to you and you alone.

I promise to never expect you to do anything above your abilities and giftings, but I do promise to push you to achieve goals you have set for yourself and your dreams as I believe all dreams are achievable.

I promise to never bring you down or criticise you in public and before friends, rather I will do my best to lift you up and support you always in public and home.

I promise to try to never run off on some wild idea that pops into my head which isnt feizable without consulting you (note: “try”).

I promise to always protect you, no matter how unlikely my success might be. If you are taken from me (save the Lord Jesus) I will track you down and find you and be your knight in shining armour.

I promise from now to regularly pray for you and believe in faith that God is answering me.

I promise to try to put much thought into everything we put our hands to (note: “try”).

I promise the only thing that will take me away from you is death.

I promise to lead our family in Godly and honourable ways and when I blow it, I promise I will be humble and start again.

Finally and above all, I promise to you that God is the head of our household and Him alone we will follow.

When times are tough we will turn to our Father in Heaven for our daily bread, and seek His ways in all things.

Though I’m far from perfect, I will love you always and be committed always because you are the girl of my dreams.

Whatever need you have, ask and I’ll do my very best to provide.

Since this letter is rather deep and meaningful, I must add a little humour to make your most beautiful asset shine, your smile.

I promise not to wait until Christmas and birthdays before I change my wardrobe of underwear and socks, when they wear out, I will humble myself and go shopping for replacements.

I am yours always, from now – until eternity.

With love, admiration, adoration and genuine awe,

Mr Gadget.”

Other than the place that my identity and hope can be found, Mr Gadget is the best thing about me.

When you faithfully pray for Gods best and His will in your life,
all things are attainable and the answers profoundly exceed your understanding of love…
xo

♦ cause things are still beautiful 2nd time around ♦

Dear Miss Laurie – October 2010

Dear Miss Laurie,

You are a day away from being 8 months old.
You have two fully established teeth and three more coming through up top.
(Maybe you could give your Poppa some cause his ones these days cost money to get.)
You’re growing and developing so quickly that just in ONE day you did THREE new things!

1. You noticed for the first time my change in voice when I tried to growl you. You stared at me and then broke into this heartbreaking cry. I swear I’m not delighting in your sadness, but Mama is just so proud!

2. You can’t work out how to crawl just yet but you pushed your little bum all the way across the bed backwards the other day… that still counts, just like if a Taxi drove backwards they’d owe YOU money.

3. I’ve retreated from trying to get your first words to be either “Gerard Butler” or “Floccinaucinihilipilification” and settle for something a bit closer to the hand that feeds you like, “Mama” or “Papa”. We tried on “Mama” for size the other day, your little eyes were watching my lips SO intently and even mimicked the action with yours – you couldn’t quite get that you actually had to make sound to make the noise so got all frustrated and with a big rush of a sigh you came out with “Wha-woll”. You little genius.

You’re a master of rolling onto your tummy – especially when I’m trying to get that muddy nappy off you. Everytime I go through the motions of trying to get you out of that Huggie prison you get into hysterics like I’m trying to force feed codliver oil to you or something.
Your face goes purple, two little veins throb to the side of your forehead and you burst the odd capillary in the eye. I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING. I’m exaggerating, but that’s different.

You also throw yourself at any given opportunity. You’re sitting on my lap watching TV, you spot the remote on the ground and decide you must have it in your possession. So you end up throwing yourself toward it. The trust that you have thinking nothing bad at all is going to come out of that decision is amazing.

I just hope it isn’t the beginning of a love of risking death for the thrill of it.
Next you’re going to figure out how to run under tables. Then you’re going to steal the car and try to set your farts on fire with the cigarette lighter.
But I could be just looking too far into it.

Like I mentioned earlier, your development is happening so rapidly before my eyes… it awakens me to the fact that I’m a breath away of being in my *gulp* mid-twenties. Then I hear that it’s apparently all downhill from there.

That suits me fine. Downhill’s easier than uphill.
Uphill makes me regret that extra helping of Fettucine.
I’m gonna wake up tomorrow and you probably will have a mouthfull of teeth or you’ll be six foot tall. I can picture it already… all six feet of you folded up in your little cot. Adorable.

One day you will realise that babies don’t actually come from the bottom of the “Weetbix” box and you will also realise there is a time of becoming an adult and a time of BECOMING AN ADULT. Not just biologically or legally but “growing beyond idiocy and ignorance and making decisions adulthood”.

I had an experience recently where I made the decision to cut friendships out of my life.
In my eyes I saw no other resolution to a healthier future for those involved, for us and for you.
It’s funny how I’ve always thought I was an adult. I moved out at 18, I owned my first home and got married at 19, I was a mother at 23, and although I’d experienced all these “coming of age” moments in life, it is the decision to cut out friendships recently that I truely felt like I became an adult.
I think that when you can put someone elses needs above your own (like I feel like I did), I think that you step into another area of adulthood.

I’d never realised life was so complicated.
Adulthood is overrated at times.
As children we can’t wait to get there.
Sometimes I wish I could go back to the days where I’d be begging Mum to let me eat “that bowl of M&Ms” for breakfast.
Days where decisions and mortgages and planning tomorrows dinner were non-existant.

Your reality right now does not depend on complicated things.
It’s having fun with Mama and Papa and eating and sleeping.
I learn so much from you. Like taking time to just sit or to explore or to feel the textures of the grass or the wind on my face. You are so uncomplicated and don’t depend on accidently offending someone or judging others on what they look like without makeup on or other shallow things like money and possessions.

I’m an adult now but I’m greatful God’s given me the opportunity to experience childhood again through you. You’re learning so much through watching me but I’m also learning so much through watching you.

Don’t be in a hurry to grow up too soon my baby, you’ve only got 20 years to be a kid and 40 years plus of being an adult.
There’s also this annoying thing called a Period….

♦ cause things are still beautiful 2nd time around ♦

An open letter to the man that could have destroyed my life

To the man that could have destroyed my life.

For fourteen years I have wondered what last Wednesday would feel like. The day I would see you again.

I saw you in a pub at midday on a Wednesday, at least I have the excuse that I was having lunch.
In you walked, up the ramp past my table and up to the bar.
I sat there staring at the back of your head, you actually cut off your mullett…. congratulations.
My Mum returned from the ladies room, watching her, my beautiful mother in ruby, looking every bit the confident, strong and protective nurturer – adorned in the spiritual crown of Kings and Queens, lace her way back into the room – I cannot believe this same woman stole us away from your hands. She picked us up, sheltered us in her wings and nabbed us from the story you only ever hear about through a friend of a friend.
I hate what you did to my widowed mother. I hate what you did to my brother that was grieving for his father. I hate what you did to the 7, 8, 9, 10 year old me. Back then, only you knew it was wrong. Today I’m a woman, now we both know it was wrong. You should be ashamed.
You don’t owe me a sorry, you owe my step father a thank you. He picked up those terrible broken pieces of our lives and put them back together. It has been hard for him to go through our pain, to reteach us what love actually is and to show us what to expect in Husbands and Fathers. If it werent for him, the man of God he is, I could have let you destroy my life by living in unforgiveness, hate and anger. Who knows what that might have meant for you this last time I saw you.
I hold my head high today, no longer does the sound of a slamming microwave send my heart into overdrive and fear. No longer are you the huge man that could squash the biggest of men. You were small. You were nothing special. Obviously someone with little man syndrome.
You know that we saw you and you should know that it felt good walking up to the counter next to you, to feel you look at me and recognise me. It felt good interrupting to address our mutual friend that you were talking to, only to say bye to her, and making it obvious we wanted no part of the past. Cause that is all you are.
The past.
For God so loved the world, He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life – John 3:16
You dont deserve name suppression, but I dont deserve what Christ did on the cross for me. I believe in the God of second chances, the God that forgives those who ask.
I forgive you.
I forgive you for what you did to my widowed mother. I forgive you for what you did to my brother grieving for his father. I forgive you for what you did to the 7, 8, 9, 10 year old me.
I’ve chosen to let go of you. Dont try to get my attention again if you run into me for a second time. You are the end of a sad chapter in my story… a chapter that has closed and that has taught me alot. Thank you for showing me what not to expect in a Man and a Father.
That is one good thing I can take from you.
I pray that you don’t get what you deserve, but that you have a true revelation of heart.
That you see that it was someones Mother you beat, that it was someones brother you belittled, that it was someones daughter you almost destroyed. And that you stop drinking on a Wednesday lunchtime.
From the Author and Creator of “cause things are still beautiful 2nd time around” … cause they truely are.

Dear Miss Laurie – June 2010

Dear Miss Laurie,

At the time of writing this your Dad and I have celebrated our four year wedding anniversary.
If every year was worth a dollar we’d be at… what… four by now. You could buy half a Fishing News Magazine for that. By the time you read this though, you probably couldn’t even buy a fart for that amount of money… cause to fart you need food and in the future when you read this I’m assuming food wont even exist anymore. We’ll all be munching on pills like astronauts. I’ve always wanted to have a roast dinner by capsule.

Being pregnant turned me into a Dragon with OCD. Daily, I disinfected EVERYTHING with my partner in crime… Dettol Disinfectant. Hospital Grade. Kills 99.9% of germs.
The more pregnant I got, the more often strangers smiled at me.
I wonder why… maybe its cause I was fatter than they were.

The Summer passed by and it is the first summer I have never received a tan from the sun… I guess who needs one when you have a 42″ Plasma TV.
The rays that thing gives can pretty much roast a chicken.

You were ten days late cause your hand was on your head.
After being violated by my midwife THREE TIMES (you’re welcome), I was induced.
I can’t quite put the experience into words… I will say this though, when my waters were being broken, I was briefly hooked up to the gas and became unresponsive for 30 seconds, my pupils were pinpoint and I tried to run out of the room with no pants on. Classy.

At 4.15pm, Tuesday the 16th of February 2010, without drugs or any other aid – you were in my arms. A 3 hr and 15 minute labour. SWEET. AND apparently I didn’t scream or make much noise… yeeeah boy!! I did want to kick my assistant midwife in the head though.
Let me just say that I know why they call it crowning now – cause not only the crown but the entire throne makes its way out.

If only babies just grew in the garden…

So Miss Laurie, you’re now 4 months old and you still can’t say “Rhinoscerous” – if you are going to be the genius that pays for our retirement like we want you to be, then I suggest you take me seriously when I’m trying to teach you rather than just laugh, bubble and give me screams in ear piercing octaves.

You’re getting closer to the age where you start playing ‘lets go drink stuff from under the sink’ and I’ve growled you once. I also accidently turned your bedroom light on at 2am one morning you decided not to sleep through and were chatting to yourself, so the light hit your brand new baby retinas like a bat in the face.
I swear I’m a good Mother though.

Days turn to weeks so quickly – and you now sit on my hip.
You still sleep through the night like you did at 4 days old and for some reason people think my job is so much easier *shakes fist*. If it looks easy, it’s because I choose not to let you change every aspect of our lives, rather I let you find your place amongst ours.

I hate thinking that one day a bee might sting your foot, that you’ll ever fall off a bike, that a friend might be mean to you, that one day you might nurse a broken heart.
Just remember, Mama can always get a karate book out from the library and give whatever it is, a dealing to… and that I will always be here to hug you – no matter what obstacle, no matter your age.

Your Dad is apparently your favourite thing in the world. But you know, don’t you worry about me… all I did was carry you in my stomach and give up food for nine months. Lets not even go there with what I had to go through to get you out… no I’ve changed my mind, lets go there… I squeezed you out of my Vagina… there I said it.
I suppose I wouldn’t care as much if he changed nearly as much of your “biohazard” nappies as I do… you know, the ones that had come out of the sides of your pants and drip on the floor.
He wakes you up in the mornings and you are so excited to see him that you sound like a feral cat being attacked my a pack of gangly wolves. Totally adorable.

Never in my life would I have expected myself to be a 24 year old going to bed with “The Wiggles” songs in my head – I didn’t know that there were more words to “Hot Potato Hot Potato” than just “Hot Potato Hot Potato”…. apparently cold Spaghetti and squashed Banana get a mention too. So profound. No wonder those guys are rich.

You’re not that much of a crier really – unless it comes to you spitting your dummy, someone blocking your vision to the TV or your Dad not checking the bottle temperature properly and giving you a piping hot swig of milk where he practically almost has to wear oven mits to give it to you cause it burns so bad…. but my word… the calm before the storm. You get this look in your eye and all of a sudden youre purple and we all get to see your stomach through your mouth. And dont you play it up. Like it is the worst thing in the world. Then you nuzzle in to my arms and you let out a huge sigh like, “I know that what just happened was a tragedy for all of us, but I’ve decided I can move on.”

Miss Laurie, if I could ever have known that loving you feels like this, your arrival would have been earlier.
One day you will grow up and find your place in the World. You will have views, you will have passions, you will have insecurities. Just know you don’t have to be the prettiest, the most popular girl in the room. Beauty is fleeting. You don’t have to fill the silence with noise to be noticed. Just know who you are in God. Know who you are inside. Know your own worth.
Love who you are. Accept your qualities and nurture them. Don’t hang your head in shame, allow who you truely are to shine through. No-one likes a wet blanket or a moody Mary so be the person that is genuinely nice. The friend that we all want. The person that encourages others in their success. Accept who you are and get on with life. It isn’t about feeling sorry for yourself. Honour God. He will honour you and your desires. People are attracted to those that choose to shine on no matter the circumstance. Be that person my baby. You are so valuable.

Anyway, I think I’ve covered what I’ve wanted to say so let me just end on something I’ve already mentioned…

I squeezed you out of my Vagina.

Love Mama,

xo.

♦ cause things are still beautiful 2nd time around ♦

Dear Miss Laurie – November / December 2009

You mean I’m not supposed to be eating raw chicken?

(November 2009)

Dear Miss Laurie,

In two days we will begin the T-minus 10 week count down. This week you get eyelashes.. the very things that will oneday make you regret using mascara from all the stray ones that get swallowed up by your eye socket and make permanent home behind your eyeball.

I’m now breathing like a ten pack-a-day smoker since you now favour pushing all my innards into my mouth and what feels like you punching your little pillow into shape under my ribs.. I’d see the funny side if everytime you kicked my ribs they would make xylophone sounds like it does in cartoons. But they don’t. So I’m not laughing. Only wincing in pain and secretly wanting your Dad to run to my side with every creak and moan I have… only he doesn’t… he apparently doesn’t read minds.

You are now extending your little limbs and leaving them hanging out in mid air.
The last letter I wrote you, your Dad only felt you kick once… he has since had you kick him in the face and viciously boot 20 times in a row when he was running his hand over you… its okay… we tell eachother that you’re just being “playful”. We’ve agreed though that you don’t like your Midwife. Your kicks seem more deliberate for her.

You’re only a third of the body weight you’re apparently going to be and I already am wondering if they have seat belt extenders for cars. If this is any indication we’re going to give birth to the female Hulk Hogan, then I can’t wait for you to go on wrestling tour and pay for our retirement. We could live with you on your wrestling tour bus and drink a couple non alchy beers after each show. WHO SAYS YOUR MAMA CAN’T HANG?

(December 2009)

Dear Miss Laurie,

It’s officially December now, and man I wish you were a year old already, I’d totally be decking out the Christmas tree and wrapping up wrapping paper for you since that seems to be all babies are interested in when it comes to presents. Don’t worry though Miss Laurie, your Yia Yia is already putting away Christmas presents for you next year… she just expects to have first dibs on your name cause naming her own children and your uncles children apparently wasn’t enough.

We went for our first swim of the summer over the weekend. I envisioned refreshing romantic weightlessness on my back being carried along top fluffy pillows of waves. But it was brief. Not so much romantic. And more on the freezing side of refreshing. I had a second of weightlessness lying on my back as I didn’t count for the fact that I now carry a keg of liquid, guts, goop and extra human on my front so I bobbed over like a head heavy cork and was too scared to touch the ground cause of the seaweed. So I almost drowned in a metre of water.
They would’ve sent out the rubber duckie and I could’ve got on Piha Rescue if I were at Piha. Then someone would’ve made up shirts of my pregnant silhouette, tummy down in a metre of water screaming for help and sold them at the Sunday carboot markets in the carpark under the Whangarei Cinemas.
They would’ve sold out to an overwhelming demand that they would then turn it into a business. Then they would start up a dot.com and sell internationally. One of those countries would be a country well call the U, S and A.
They’d then get an appearance on the Nickelodeon red carpet by someone famous, like Rob Pattinson and get a mention when Guiliana Rancic asks “Who are you wearing?”.
Then all Americas tweens would beg their parents to get the same shirts for them for Christmas. One of those young kids would be Corby… Gails daughter.
Gails bestfriend Oprah would hear about what Gail got Corby for Christmas and think it would be a good idea to find out more about this shirt as it sounds like another possible fad that has hit the planet, like “Skip It’s” and “Pet Rocks”, “Koosh Balls” and “Mood Rings” and feature it as a possible upcoming fad that we shouldn’t all buy into on her next show.
After some investigation by her people, they would come to the conclusion that these shirts don’t fall into the “Fad” category. But it would be more practical to feature the company itself on her show in the “Rags to Riches” feature scheduled for next Month as Wikipedia details that this company obviously had their fair share of rags beginning in a carboot under a Cinema Complex. The company would then feature on Oprah and become so big the internet would blow up.
And all because of you and me.

But it didn’t happen like that cause the seaweed floated past so I was brave enough to stand up…. and I wasn’t at Piha.
Speaking of your Dad, (I know we weren’t actually speaking of him in the previous paragraph but I wanted to bring him into conversation, so the first thing in my mind for beginning this new paragraph was “Speaking of your Dad” thus the “Speaking of your Dad” part at the beginning of this paragraph) he’s already practicing walking your pram up and down the hallway.
He’s totally cool.
Guess what he did?
since you and I didn’t make it to Church on Sunday (did you know that? I’m sorry, I know how much you like the Drums and Bass and clapping and people poking and prodding you – but I was sore and swollen and tired so we couched the morning away) your Dad went in and played Bass.
Not expecting him to come home with anything more than the Milk we needed to get us through till our usual grocery day he walks in with lunch and a MANGO and a MILKSHAKE MIX!! and an amazingly dreamy COT!!! and a fancy CHANGING TABLE SLASH BATH SLASH STORAGE THING ON WHEELS!!!! What a man.
(Did you notice how I built it up with the use of Capslock, exclamation marks, the bold feature, Italics and a splash of colour? that’s called education. Stay in school.)

As far as Husbands go, your Dad is totally boss. He is the cheese to my macaroni.
No doubt there will be times when you leave the house in frustration or anger, it doesn’t matter what reason, don’t ever leave without telling him you love him. Ever. Appreciate him.
Tell him how awesome the gardens and lawns look.
How perfect his steak cooking abilities are.
How much of a hard worker he is.
Laugh at his jokes and make him cups of coffee without being asked.
One day he won’t be there anymore so don’t leave room for regrets and “should’ves”.
It’s the relationship with your Dad that will give you best indication of your level of worth.
Listen to him.
The things he says and the things he doesn’t.
He’s your hero.
If you go by his example of what to expect in a man, you’ll find a good thing.

I totally looked down just now and saw the remnants of what used to be recognisable as human feet. They’ve apparently been replaced with those of an Elephant. Just for that you can’t wear makeup till your wedding day. I so can’t wait to give you your first taste of lemon.

I do love you though, you truely are the heartbeat of life. I’ve decided to ignore all the horrid stories I’ve been told about birth. They’ll only rob me of the joy of these last weeks. Besides someone elses horror story doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to be the blueprint of my experience. I trust that my body knows what to do. That you are perfectly and wonderfully made. For that I thank God. I’m just sorry that on your birthday your Koro and your Poppa wont be there to hold you close, but believe every word when I say that you would be the very love of their lives. Your Yia Yia keeps saying that your Koro would make the trip out to our place everyday after work just to give you a chocolate fish. I tend to believe that. Thats the type of man he was. You may never have met him but you can be proud that you are part of his line.
His moko.

Since my eggo is indeed preggo and am for shizz up the spout, I was recently given a Magazine on healthy and active pregnancy and was pretty disappointed when I read that I’m actually supposed to be exercising.. but not as disappointed as I am that the mammoth act of getting out of bed and clothing myself doesn’t count. I think if the person that wrote that article actually witnessed the contortions, the self body boosting and experienced a bit of the pain and the sweat it takes me just to get out of bed, then they’d voluntarily throw their internet PHD’s out the window and go get slapped by their Mama’s. I found it pretty interesting the article was written by dude too. There’s just something about the presence of a pregnant woman that suddenly makes everyone in the room an expert on the health of unborn children. Bless em.

You haven’t even been born yet and I’m already getting on the “my baby will be at school soon” crazy-train. Then you will have your own Caleb Smith that sits on your lunch box and tries to lure you into the boys toilets with orange wedges. Just make sure you scream loudly and tell him your Daddy has a gun… just like your Mama did when she was 5.
And when you’re 8, don’t go marrying those Jason Rooke’s on the field at School… it’ll only follow you around for the rest of your life and even find it’s way into a speech by your Head Bridesmaid on your REAL Wedding day.
But ALWAYS wear undies or one of those Kohatu Harris’s will down trail you when you take a sip of water at the drinking fountain and then when you get into an arguement with him later on he’ll pull out the “At least I wear undies” line. Complete burn.

Well baby girl, this is the last day of 2009. Thank you for holding out like a good girl and not making your trip down the creek without a paddle too early. Only 5 weeks until the day of Waitangi, Bob Marleys birthday and your approximate expulsion date and then its Prison Tatts, Ciggies and Moonshine here I come! Hahaha no, no… but I will be all over Sushi, Red Bull, painting my toenails, chasing the dog when he eats the rubbish, sleeping on my tummy and eating swine flu pork and raw chicken just like a rash! Woo!

But most of all, I can’t wait to meet you and to see your Dads reaction to your meconium.

Love, Mama.
xo

♦ cause things are still beautiful 2nd time around ♦