of family and other open wounds.

I'm having a hard time lately. My parents have decided they're furious with me for reasons I don't understand and don't think are as serious as they do. All my life I've tried not to make them angry except for a few times when I was a teenager when I pretended I didn't care. But I do care. I still care. I hate it when they decide they're not speaking to me. It makes me feel like I have a hole in the center of who I am.

They're not bad people. They work hard and they try hard, but it's like their idea of who I am supposed to be never added up to who I actually am. And every time they're reminded of this they get angry. This time it's different. This time, I'm a parent too. Granted, they've been doing it for twenty four years longer than I have, but I still know what it feels like to love a child. I know that Leila and I will eventually have disagreements, even fights, but I also know that my job is to love her no matter what. My love for Leila is boundless and unconditional, and I will try to remember that at all times.

My mother's father, my grandfather, would occasionally get mad and her and inform her he wasn't speaking to her and I remember how it made her feel. She would be so sad and empty. I remember feeling protective of her and angry at him for hurting my mother. I wonder if she remembers this. I wonder what it is my parents see when they think of me. It's taken me years and years not to see myself as deeply flawed and awful. But I know I'm not. Years ago, my counsellor made me draw up a list of ten things I liked about myself. It took me hours, and I'm pretty sure one of them was, "I like my impeccable taste in Star Treks, TNG forever!"

I want to make peace with my parents. I want to prevent this from happening in the future. I want Leila to know her grandparents. But if I can't  have that, then I want to find the strength to let go, to know that I am good person whether or not my parents tell me.

grandad

My father is probably this blog's biggest fan. I get plaintive phone calls when I haven't updated in a few days. It's pretty cute. I'm not the only one who things my dad is awesome though, Leila grins from ear to ear when he comes in the room. Here she's all curled about and about to fall asleep at the breakfast table.

five monthday (only a few days late)

Dear Leila,

This past Saturday you turned five months old! We were at your grandparent's house on Pender Island hence the belated letter. You had fun there though. You've decided that with enough introduction people who aren't me or your dad are ok and are allowed to hold you. We left you alone with them for a couple of hours so we could go canoeing (we would have taken you, but you hate your life jacket and cry the whole time), and I was so worried about you we came home early, but when we got back you were all smiles sitting on your grandad's lap.

It's so strange to see my parents with you and get the smallest of insights into what it must have looked like when I was your age. I feel like I am saving up all these anecdotes that will become the stories of who you were as a baby, stories you will carry around the rest of your life, but that you will have no real memory of.

You're doing all sorts of cool baby things these days. You can sit on your own for a few minutes now. You're also really really excited about your jolly jumper and bounce away happily until you're bored and need to move on to the next activity. You still don't sleep all that well, but we're working on that. You've actually started doing this somewhat cute somewhat frustrating thing where once you're asleep you wake up as soon as I put you down in your crib, so I have to pick you back up and hold you in my arms until your as limp as a noodle and then I can carefully put you back in your own bed. It's a little hard if I need to get something done, but there's something really lovely about your solid warmth in my arms so I try to have a book handy for those extra couple of minutes it takes you to fall deeply asleep.

You've really turned my world upside down little girl, but I love you so much more than I ever knew I could. You're a rose, you're a pearl, you're the spin on my world.

Love you always,

Mom

Sitting with Sophie!