Dear Vivian {Month 5}

Dearest Vivian,

Whew. What a month it's been. Let's just take a minute to exhale, shall we? Ahhh.

Our lucky kid. Shirt (so cute!) from Uncle Tony & Laurel.

Happy five months, schnookums. Your fifth month brought a mixed bag: you continued to charm us with your smile and sweet, sweet demeanor; Christmas was anticipated and I thought about what traditions I wanted to start with you; and all the while your heart surgery was looming on the horizon.

Our family, the morning of surgery

Oh, Vivian, your dad and I just adore you. It's as simple as that. Just when we think we couldn't possibly treasure you anymore than we already do, our hearts continue to swell with love for you. We have so much fun reading books to you--you sit and look and listen with such joy in your eyes. This brings me much happiness, as reading with my students was one of my favorite perks of being a teacher. But now I'm in the best classroom (the world is our oyster, my darling!) with my dearest student (you!) and there's nowhere I'd rather be. Being your mom is the best job I've ever had. Truly.

I've already mentioned that Christmas is not my favorite holiday (I know, such a Scrooge!), but I'm a sucker for tradition, and I did start a few with you in mind. I baked Aunt Augusta's sugar cookies, and enjoyed imagining the two us in sassy vintage aprons making a mess in the kitchen in a couple of years. We also took lots of twilight walks--perfect for Christmas decoration scouting. On several occasions, I yelled out "Christmas lights!" with extra enthusiasm, as this is something my mom (your Grandma) always exclaimed when I was a kid and we were driving around during the Christmas season. Dad drove us through the lights at Lake Vasona with Christmas music playing and hot chocolate and apple cider in hand. That was fun, though you slept through it all. And Granny sent us a special box of family heirloom ornaments (several had your dad's childhood photo pasted on) which will be treasured for years to come. It was just the right amount of holiday spirit.

Christmas cookies, our tree, lights at Lake Vasona, Viv sleeping during the Lake Vasona lights

And when Christmas day arrived, our hearts and minds felt a bit lighter, because at that point, you had come out of your surgery and were healing. We were all starting to heal, actually. Handing you over for surgery was the hardest thing I've ever done. But, Vivian, I handed you over to people whose hands and minds knew just how to care for you and your heart. So as much as it pained me to say goodbye for all those hours, I did so with confidence in the people who were with you. And as you healed in the hospital, you charmed doctors and nurses and visitors with your patient, observant and lovable attitude. I cannot tell you how much I admire your resilience and strength. It inspires me. It motivates me. You, quite simply, rock my world as a daughter. Auntie Sarah wrote me an email from Peru on New Year's Eve. She studies Buddhism and told me that it is their belief that a child chooses his or her parents. Vivian, I am so honored to think you chose your dad and me to be your parents. And you just keep revealing reasons why you are the BEST thing that's ever happened to us.

Hospital stay in pictures, but bringing in the new year together, at home (hence the champagne on ice)

Your surgery brought up a lot of thoughts on the universe and God and journeys and spirituality. Dad and I were talking about souls one day--were we here before? will we be here on earth again after we die? (You know, light banter of that sort.) And when we brought you home again, you were taking it all in with those glistening eyes of yours and your dad said, "How could someone not believe in souls after looking in Vivian's eyes? She's an old soul, there's no doubt." That just about took my breath away.

Happy New Year! Life is good.

I went through a little ritual the other day (courtesy of Andrea at Superhero) to help me declare 2007 complete. 2007 was a year of my most joyful joys and sorrowful sorrows. But there's something about putting up a new calendar that feels so good. And with this fresh start of sorts, I've declared 2008 the year of family adventure. With surgery behind us, I am so looking forward to making our world just a little bigger and seeing what you think of it. So hold on, my sweetest schmoopie-pants, we're about to start creating some memories beyond our little neighborhood.

Rain clouds and booming thunder and wind gusts of love, love, love for you, my Sweet Vivian,
Mom