Dark days of summer

dear sweet son ,

expect dark days is what they all said, and this week I’ve seen what they are talking about. I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. You take the good, you take the bad, right?

nothing too terribly serious, just a few days ago I felt tired. Tired and burnt out. It was brought on by other things, a photo posted on facebook that reminded me how much I want you to be strong and confident, and to be able to stand up for yourself. How I want so desperately to do everything in my power to instill confidence in you, to believe you can do anything you want to in this world, and especially to not take crap from no one.

I hope and pray I have it in me to do this.

so I was a little bit sad and stressed this week, culminating on Thursday evening, when we were cuddling on the bed and you were shooting me smile after adorable, sweet, baby smile, with your little head tilted, and you were just looking at me like you thought I was the cat’s meow. And that particular evening, all I could think about was how much I want to protect you.

and also, when you smiled at me I was just thinking about how maybe one day you will grow to hate me. That happens, you know. To seemingly good parents. Their children end up hating them. I don’t know how it happens and I want so much for you to always think I am the cat’s meow.

Wow. Is that a PPD thought or what? Perhaps Mama needs some help.

If it’s any consolation, I feel a tad better today. And on Thursday evening, I decided to call some friends. Unfortunately, it’s August, and you know what August in France means. Everyone is on vacation. So I called your Grandpa, and even he was in a producers’ meeting in Los Angeles.

So instead, I decided it was time to get out of the apartment for an evening walk. I put on a dress, some ballet flats, some rose-tinted lip stain and some perfume, packed you in the navy blue Italian baby carriage, leashed up the dog and walked to the eighteenth arrondissement. Walking towards Montmartre always reminds me of how much I love Paris. There was a lovely warm summer wind, which blew my dress up a bit, and I refused to be daunted by the threatening gray clouds in the distance, which ended up doing little more than plopping a few big drops on us. I promised you that I would pick you up and hold you halfway through our walk and indeed, you fussed once or twice and I picked you up, and you looked up at the sky, and we cuddled for a few minutes right there in the street, and then I put you back and you were ok with that. People passing by us cooed at you. Your Uncle J texted me during our walk, to see if I was ok, and I texted back that we were on a walk and would call him later.

And then we came home, and I felt better about things. And we are going on an airplane this week. Your first plane ride! To tell you the truth I’m a little nervous about how it’s going to go, but I’m sure you are going to be a trooper. I’m trying to decide what to bring, I think I’m going to bring you in the baby bjorn on board with a backpack that we will use for a diaper bag as well as to bring to the lake in Germany, and then I will pack your things in the Longchamp pliage that your Papa gifted me with after your birth, and my things in the Lancel rolling suitcase that he gifted me with for my birthday and a trip to California two years ago (your papa gives really great gifts), and check those two bags, and we will check the stroller chassis with the car seat attachment. All very exciting stuff. And I bought you this funny travel bed that pops open, and it has an arche d’eveil as well as a mosquito net cover that we can use at the lake too, if the weather is nice. I can’t wait to travel with you. I hope that we have many, many traveling adventures in our future.

Expect dark days they said, and dark days will come, but I think knowing what they are and what to do about it is half the battle…


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