Hi Ella, it's been about 12 days since I wrote you. It's also just about 72 days until we see you... unless you're impatient.
Daddy likes math, Ella. Yes, just another reason to be embarrassed of me. Daddy looks at those numbers and thinks, "6 more of those 12-day lengths of time and I will be a F-f-f-father. Yikes." Of course you know daddy also counts down the days until he can see you and hold you oh-so-gently in his arms.
Before you get here, I have a few requests. These are not rules or grandiose ideas of what and who you will become. They are not expectations or ways you will be measured. These are simply requests, take them or leave them. But take them. Seriously, they're really good.
- I humbly request you always remember you are loved
We will always love you and we will always strive to tell you and show you, every day. But mom and I will fail, occasionally. I hope you never forget how precious you are.
- I firmly request you always remember how strong you are
Human beings are fragile. I haven't even touched you and I'm already afraid of breaking you. You will cry, you will be hurt, you will be embarrassed. These things are temporary. Remember us talking about being afraid? That's not weakness, that's your brain telling you to keep going. Keep going, Ella. Even when your heart is broken or the world seems out to get you. You will prevail because you are strong. You will prevail because you will never forget how powerful one person can be.
--- Hang on. I just realized your heart is broken in my example. Who did it? What's his name? Seriously, it's no big deal. I just wanna text him. Check in, see how he's doing. I'm not gonna do anything to him, I won't drive by house or follow him to school... seriously. But you just say the word and I will END HIM.
Okay, I feel better.
- Lastly, I lovingly request you always remember to make the most of each day
I'll admit, every parent wants this. I'll admit further: Every parents wants this because every parent - every person, in fact - has felt like they've wasted days (or sometimes longer) of their life. To a point, this is natural. We always wish we could have achieved more, seen more, laughed and loved more. But Ella, hear me when I say: Each day is precious. You will hear cliches like, "Every day is your masterpiece." Cheesy, right? Yeah, well it's also as true a statement as one can make. Each day is a challenge to make a stranger smile, help a person in need, move closer to your goals, or create something beautiful.
I know these are lofty requests. I also know how much your mom and I will try to help you move toward these feelings and actions. But we are not perfect - and I get the feeling things are about to get a bit chaotic here - so I thought I'd might as well jot these down before Hurricane Ella shows up.
Love you Ella, see you in 6 x 12 days.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
We'll See You Tomorrow!
Tomorrow's a big day for us. I'm guessing you won't really think anything is different.
It's been two months since we saw your face and your, uhh... girl parts. And your hands and feet; you get the picture. Or, wait, you don't. We get the picture. We're on the outside, looking in. You are in your own universe, in no uncertain terms.
Those preceding three sentences seem important. I feel like I should learn some sort of lesson, read between the lines.
I will. Later. For now, I'm just excited to see you. Judging by mom's belly, I think you've grown about 20-fold since we last got a picture of you. It's hanging on our fridge, by the way. A picture of you, an arrow pointing to your... undercarriage:
"It's a girl!"
It sure was/is. But now you're not just a girl, Ella. You're Ella.
I'd estimate you've gotten about 20 times cooler in the last two months.
Love you, see you tomorrow.
It's been two months since we saw your face and your, uhh... girl parts. And your hands and feet; you get the picture. Or, wait, you don't. We get the picture. We're on the outside, looking in. You are in your own universe, in no uncertain terms.
Those preceding three sentences seem important. I feel like I should learn some sort of lesson, read between the lines.
I will. Later. For now, I'm just excited to see you. Judging by mom's belly, I think you've grown about 20-fold since we last got a picture of you. It's hanging on our fridge, by the way. A picture of you, an arrow pointing to your... undercarriage:
"It's a girl!"
It sure was/is. But now you're not just a girl, Ella. You're Ella.
I'd estimate you've gotten about 20 times cooler in the last two months.
Love you, see you tomorrow.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Just Kick a Little Harder; I'm Sure Mommy Won't Mind...
Hi Ella,
It's been a few days since we talked. I mean, I've talked at you in mom's belly, it's just hard to know if you're listening. I imagine you with your arms folded, face like you just ate a lemon. Maybe you're even chewing gum or texting your boyfriend.
I know that's not you. In fact, I don't think I am jinxing it to say I expect you to never, ever, ever give me a sour look or ignore me for a boy. Reasonable, right?
Seriously though, I still don't have any physical evidence of you. Mommy says you kick her all the time and, although I wouldn't exactly say I'm jealous of her, she does get an ever-present reminder of you. For me, the reminders of Ella are in the world around me. I think I see you in kids at the mall, students on stage, or characters on TV. I imagine your voice just like I do with the dog (except the dog's voice sounds like a baby-talk Eeyore).
I am so anxious to see, touch, hear you, Ella. Wait, maybe I should take back the hear part. Yeah, that's going to jinx it for sure.
So kick harder. Let your old man see what you've got. I won't tell mom we planned it.
It's been a few days since we talked. I mean, I've talked at you in mom's belly, it's just hard to know if you're listening. I imagine you with your arms folded, face like you just ate a lemon. Maybe you're even chewing gum or texting your boyfriend.
I know that's not you. In fact, I don't think I am jinxing it to say I expect you to never, ever, ever give me a sour look or ignore me for a boy. Reasonable, right?
Seriously though, I still don't have any physical evidence of you. Mommy says you kick her all the time and, although I wouldn't exactly say I'm jealous of her, she does get an ever-present reminder of you. For me, the reminders of Ella are in the world around me. I think I see you in kids at the mall, students on stage, or characters on TV. I imagine your voice just like I do with the dog (except the dog's voice sounds like a baby-talk Eeyore).
I am so anxious to see, touch, hear you, Ella. Wait, maybe I should take back the hear part. Yeah, that's going to jinx it for sure.
So kick harder. Let your old man see what you've got. I won't tell mom we planned it.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
It's Okay to be Scared
Actually, it's more than okay. It's really good to be scared.
I just started a new job. I know your schedule is full so I won't take up your time talking about it. Suffice to say I am scared, often. I am scared of failing, scared of letting people get to know the real me, scared of spilling coffee on my nice clothes; the list goes on and on.
But it's good for me to be scared. It means things are changing. I am facing choices, decisions. All the time. Every day.
I recognize this is just a test for taking care of you. Being your dad will come down to a million decisions, every day. All the time. I will be scared each time, knowing every choice I make could lead to a disaster. And you will face these choices, beginning when you crawl up to your first electrical socket (Don't worry, they'll be covered. No, you don't need to take the plastic thingy off. No, it's not yummy.)
And let me be clear: It never feels good to be scared. Being scared is good because you know you are at an important crossroads. Anything scary is really just a choice; the scarier the situation, the more important your decision becomes.
And one more thing, just to clarify: Being scared does not mean you should take the "safe" road. When you are terrified - the more terrified you are - is just your brain is telling you, "Ella, let's just take a quick sec'. Is this a chance to move in a new direction, to challenge ourselves, to explore new and wonderful things? Or is this a chance to make our super-cool daddy super happy by being home before curfew?"
I am confident you will make the right choices, more often than not. That may mean fight, or run, or jump, or hurry home. Remember that fear is just a way to know we are at a crossroads. The fear leaves the moment you pick a path and take a first step.
This is that step for me, Ella. I was scared to start writing this. But it has made me even more excited to see you. And even more scared. And that's okay.
Good Night, Ella
I told you a few nights ago that I'm scared. I'm sorry to report I have not been cured of this affliction; in fact, I may be more scared than ever. Every day brings me closer to you, Ella - and the responsibility I have always been afraid of.
I just started a new job. I know your schedule is full so I won't take up your time talking about it. Suffice to say I am scared, often. I am scared of failing, scared of letting people get to know the real me, scared of spilling coffee on my nice clothes; the list goes on and on.
But it's good for me to be scared. It means things are changing. I am facing choices, decisions. All the time. Every day.
I recognize this is just a test for taking care of you. Being your dad will come down to a million decisions, every day. All the time. I will be scared each time, knowing every choice I make could lead to a disaster. And you will face these choices, beginning when you crawl up to your first electrical socket (Don't worry, they'll be covered. No, you don't need to take the plastic thingy off. No, it's not yummy.)
And let me be clear: It never feels good to be scared. Being scared is good because you know you are at an important crossroads. Anything scary is really just a choice; the scarier the situation, the more important your decision becomes.
And one more thing, just to clarify: Being scared does not mean you should take the "safe" road. When you are terrified - the more terrified you are - is just your brain is telling you, "Ella, let's just take a quick sec'. Is this a chance to move in a new direction, to challenge ourselves, to explore new and wonderful things? Or is this a chance to make our super-cool daddy super happy by being home before curfew?"
I am confident you will make the right choices, more often than not. That may mean fight, or run, or jump, or hurry home. Remember that fear is just a way to know we are at a crossroads. The fear leaves the moment you pick a path and take a first step.
This is that step for me, Ella. I was scared to start writing this. But it has made me even more excited to see you. And even more scared. And that's okay.
Good Night, Ella
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