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Category Archives: Letters To My Son

And Then He Started 3rd Grade

And Then He Started 3rd Grade

Dear Hunter,
You started third grade. You loved it until another boy hit you in the back. On purpose.

I think you handled it the way you felt was best at the time. You told the teacher.
Dad coached you to hit back next time. And we have always told you that you will never be in trouble for defending yourself with your words or your fists.
I coached you to consider doing something without your fists, if at all possible.

Three days later you still ruminated, marinated, really, on the incident and all the bad things you could do to get back at the other boy. You were angry and plotting your retaliation. We were driving to school.

I stopped the car in the middle of our dirt road and turned to look at you. I felt lost. How was I going to help you? Being a parent is full of these moments. Questioning how I can help you on your human journey.

I said, “Honey, I can almost guarantee that the other boy is not thinking about you right now. He’s getting ready for school or getting yelled at by his mom for NOT getting ready for school. He’s taking up all your energy and thoughts right now. You are the one feeling big feelings about something that happened three days ago. Not him. Sweetheart, brains are super powerful. You can choose to not think about him. You can train your brain and make its super powers work for you rather than let all those thoughts run loose. Would you like to know how?” I breathed easier when you said yes.

We practiced how to recognize the thought about him and redirect to something you are good at or were looking forward to. I said his name and you said ‘hunting and fishing’ or ‘playing with the dogs.’

By the time we got to school, you were laughing instead of fuming.

I picked you after school and asked how it all went. You said it went pretty good.

I’ll take that as a win.

I hope we are building a trust so that you keep coming to me when you are angry, hurting, questioning, or happy.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on September 12, 2021 in Letters To My Son, Motherhood, Uncategorized

 

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Little Boy Dreams About…

Little Boy Dreams About…

…adventures in the woods
…fishing in streams
…snowshoe-backpacking on the mountain
…catching critters
…hunting trips with daddy
…wrestling the dog
…snuggling close to mom
…campfire heat on his face
…splashing and sploshing and skipping stones
…comparing footprints with grizzlies
…growing up
…growing up
…growing up
…he dreams about growing up so fast
…my head spins
…my heart sinks deep
…I search for my stiff upper lip
…eye lashes gating tears
…my dream
…keeps me in his field of vision
…and runs face-first
…after his dreams.
~annie ricci~

 
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Posted by on December 29, 2020 in Letters To My Son, Motherhood, Poetry

 

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Second Grade

Second Grade

Dear Hunter,

Well, you are in school. In a new school. A new teacher. New kiddos. And a mask. Dad and I decided to move you to a new school because their test scores for reading beat the old school’s scores by a TON!! It’s a smaller school. And your best buddy, Ivan, was going to go there, too. But change is still change.

You cried yourself to sleep this week, feeling like you had no friends and that no one likes you. You told me you were different and that nobody likes what you like. You LOVE all things hunting, fishing, trapping, camping, and pretty much anything having to do with the outdoors. And then some girl in class made fun of pronouncing your name. Change is hard, kiddo. And stressful.

I wanted to tell you how to fix it all. But, instead, I listened. And then I listened some more until you were falling asleep while talking. You need to unload. You need a safe place to land the big plane of emotions. And the next day at school was better. And so was the day after that. I shared your stories with your teacher and your principal. And they moved into action to support you more. And I think you’re feeling better as the week comes to an end.

I hope I am always the safe place for you to share what’s on your heart. I’ll try to always ask you what you need from me…and if you can’t tell me, I’ll listen and listen and listen even more.

I love you, buddy.

Love
Mom

 
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Posted by on September 17, 2020 in Letters To My Son, Motherhood

 

Lullaby

Close your eyes and know I am here
Holding you tight, chasing away your fear
Ohhhh, sweet boy, don’t grow so fast
Shhhh, sweet boy, the dark won’t last

You’re in my arms safe and sound
I feel your heart beating, feel it pound
Snuggle in, sweet boy, I’ll tell a story
About your adventures, sweet boy

About you running, jumping, climbing trees
And going full-speed and getting stung by bees
Breathe easy, sweet boy, let your whole self rest
Keep kitty close, sweet boy, tight to your chest

Sleep is winning the” I’m-not-tired” war
Your lids are heavy and dreams aren’t far
Quiet now, sweet boy, slumber and snore
Tomorrow, sweet boy, we’ll play even more

~for my sweet boy, Hunter~

Love,
Mama

 
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Posted by on August 16, 2018 in Letters To My Son, Motherhood, Poetry

 

Father’s Day 2016

Dear Son,

Your Daddy loves you more
than mountains love spring rain.
You pull his world around
like the moon pulls the tide.
And when your tears flow
he feels your anger and your pain.
When you ask to get on his shoulders
he never refuses giving the ride.

Daddy will be your rock when life
throws you this way and that.
He’ll teach you what’s what:
like how to build, how to fix,
how to fish and how to hunt.
He’ll show by example how to be a man.
And you can be sure, if you’ve earned it,
you’ll also get your licks.

Your Daddy loves you the whole world
and then some.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on June 16, 2016 in Letters To My Son, Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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You Are More Than Enough

Dear Hunter,

As Mother’s Day approaches, I want you to know that every day is mother’s day for me because I am blessed that you are in my life.

You fill my life so much that I could write 24/7 about it and still never fill a book. I just wanted you to know that, sweet boy.

I love you,

Love,

Mom

 
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Posted by on May 7, 2015 in Letters To My Son

 

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Valentine’s: Just Another Day Around Here

Dear Hunter,

It seems like just yesterday it was New Year’s and a few days ago was Christmas.  But we are approaching Valentine’s day with the speed of light.  You, my dear son, are mine and Dad’s Valentine.  Every day with you is filled with smiles and love and fun and I love it!

As you get older, you’ll get caught up in all the little Valentine’s giving and receiving at school (If they still do that, I don’t know). And you will learn all about the commercialism of this holiday and many others.  But Dad and I will balance that out for you because around here we say, “Every day is Valentine’s Day.”  We don’t withhold our love and caring and then try to make up for it on one day of the year with ‘stuff.’

We share our love for each other (and now, for you, too) every day. We show each other kindness, consideration and passion every day. Some days its more than others.  And some days it might be hard to see altogether. That’s just the ebb and flow of a relationship, son. The important point here is that we intentionally create our relationship and love and friendship on a daily basis.

Valentine’s day is nice and we celebrate it, but it’s special for us because it reminds us that we make our relationship work the rest of the 364 days of the year. And that is pretty darn sweet.

I love you, son.

Love,
Mommy

 
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Posted by on February 12, 2015 in Lessons Learned, Letters To My Son

 

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Running Again

Dear Hunter,

You are heavy. I pushed you in the jogging stroller this morning and discovered you have grown and pushing you on our road is good aerobic exercise for me. Just the kind of exercise to help me get ready for a big race this summer.  So, thank you.

I know that as you get older, you will discover sports and kinds of exercise that you love, that you excel at, and feel passionate about. I am excited to see what you choose, what you try and watch you develop into that athlete.  Just so you know, and Dad and I will tell you this often, your biggest competitor will be and should be YOU.  Improve because you WANT to.  Work hard because YOU want to be better.  When you keep your eyes on your own ability, improvement and performance you naturally enhance any team you are on.

Sure, there will be people you want to beat or be better than.  Look at those as inspiration for your own talent, a goal to strive for…yet all in the name of self-improvement.

Whatever you do, know that dad and I will be available to help you, advise you if you want, and there to cheer you on in everything.

I love you, son.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on February 11, 2015 in Letters To My Son

 

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Happy Halloween Anniversary

Dear Hunter,

I didn’t have time to write this before Halloween…what, with the never ending laundry, dishes, diaper-changing, cooking, nursing routine around here… I am surprised anything else ever gets done at all. And, when I search my heart, I am o.k. with that.

But what I wanted to tell you on Halloween was a little story about dad and I.  You see, six years ago on Halloween we went on a date. We had met for the first time a couple weeks earlier and set up a real date for Halloween.  I guess you could say it was an enchanted evening…

After primping and preening and trying to figure out how women wear lipstick with out it smearing on their teeth and ultimately opting for just some lip gloss, I met your dad in Seattle.  We stepped into an empty elevator and as it lifted us up the outside of the building, giving a great view of the city lights, your dad kissed me for the first time. And I think we were lost in that moment …stretching it … letting time move around us. And when the elevator stopped, we stepped into a whole new world…. a world we began building for ourselves.

The evening moved along in sweet fashion. We had a lovely dinner and took a cab to a little joint at the edge of Belltown in Seattle where we were the only customers.  All the ghosts and goblins had gone on their way, apparently to cause mayhem down the street. We shared a bottle of wine and chatted for a couple hours, at least.  And then all hell started breaking loose. The Halloween festivities got crazy that night in Seattle.  People really did wreak havoc in the city. Cabs were a hot commodity and eventually our server drove us back to the starting point of the evening in her own car.

When the date was over, and we were set to go our separate ways, your dad got real serious. And it started to rain, which is normal for Seattle. He looked at me with rain drops on his glasses and said, “I want to do what it takes to make this work.”  In that moment hundreds of thoughts raced through my head and they went a little like this: What the???? Huh??? Uh. Too soon.  Too serious. Is he for real? What do I say to that? Um, ok. What the ????  But what came out of my mouth was, “So, do I.” And so, son, we did.  And every day we continue to do what it takes to make “this”… this relationship we have… work.

So, there you have it… how Halloween got to be our anniversary.

Love,
Mom

 
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Posted by on November 4, 2014 in Letters To My Son, New Adventures

 

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Hand Hand Hand

Dear Hunter,

Your vocabulary and pronunciation continue to expand so rapidly that I have a hard time keeping up with all the new words you know and use, especially since the pronunciation for many of them isn’t quite what it will be in a few months.

One word I know is “Hand.” It comes out as “hanh.” But when your little fingers reach out for mine, I know exactly what you want. You want to take me some place, show me something you find fascinating or you want me to take the good china out of the cabinet so you can play with it. I know these days, when you want me with you, won’t last forever so I do my best to let go of the laundry folding, dish washing and electronic distractions, take your hand and follow your lead.

You have shown me rocks I never would have seen without your keen eye. You pull me out of grown-up-ness and back to little-hood with peek a boo and toy tractors. I play in the dirt more with you than I ever did when I was a child. We walk down the gravel road to see the neighbor’s horses. We blow bubbles. We chalk the side walk – and the fence and the doors and the house (dad didn’t like that much, but he got over it when the rain came and washed it all off).

Thank you for showing me the world through your eyes. Thank you for taking my hand. And just so you know, it will always be there for you.

Love,
Mom

 

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