Tag:

Gabs

birthday, just a little longer, 12th birthday, love letter to my daughter

Just a little longer A Love Letter to My Daughter on Her 12th Birthday

by Deborah Cruz 2019/05/21

She runs up to me and holds my face in her tiny hands, “Mama, I love you foreber and eber. Ok?” Gabs posed everything in question form as a toddler. Still, my heart knew what she meant. She was going to love me as long as I was going to love her. This is our legacy, to love just a little longer.

Since she was born, my personality doppelganger, she simultaneously pushed me away as she pulled me near. I got it. I get it. I am her and she is me. We are the same in so many ways. When she was tiny, so tiny, she wouldn’t let anyone else hold her (except for the Big Guy but still, she preferred me over all else and I loved it.) Everyone else hated it but, secretly, I loved that I was the one she always wanted and I happily obliged. How many evenings did we spend, just the two of us, feeding and her falling asleep in my arms? I could have stayed there in those quiet moments, just the two of us, forever.

But children are like trees, they plant roots but they just keep on growing and evolving; more beautiful and more majestic with each passing year. How I love to watch them grow. It is my greatest pleasure and biggest honor. That’s what being a mom is… letting go and being thankful for the opportunity to be part of something bigger than yourself. They are my legacy.

Still, as I watch my newly/nearly/almost 12-year-old, my heart still pulls toward her and wants to caress her face softly and check that she is breathing, just like I did on all those nights while I watched her sleep as a newborn. I may have even woken her up a few times, just to be able to hold her for just a little longer.

She is growing up to be such an amazing young woman. She is strong, independent, fierce and not fearless but brave. She is scared of a lot of things; mostly big things like death and life and endings and beginnings. She is wise beyond her years. She has the wisdom of a scholar and a heart that loves with no boundaries. I am fascinated by who she is becoming.

READ ALSO: I’ll Love You Fourever

She is me and I am her but she is so much better than I could have ever have hoped to be. My Gabs is truly a gift to all who know her. She’s effortlessly witty and funny; charming in her own special way. I only wish that she knew how genuine and one of a kind she is. I watch her from a close distance because she is not the child who wants me to do everything for her. She wants to do everything herself.

Learning from mistakes is where she thrives. Even though I hate to watch her stumble as she grows, her independence only allows me to help her up after she falls. That is the beauty in her. She never gives up. Once she decides what she wants the only thing that can stop her is her and I admire her for that. Her spirit is like an eagle taking flight and I love this kid more than words can adequately convey. I hope she always knows how proud and honored I feel to be her mother.

Gabs,

12-years ago tonight, I held you on my chest for the first time ever. Meeting you will always be one of the most profound moments of my life. I have and will always love you more than everything. You make me proud every single day of your life. Don’t grow up too fast. I want to hold you in my heart and be your favorite person just a little longer. Keep being yourself and making your videos and cracking your jokes. Keep saying what’s on your mind. Never stop dressing and dancing they way you want. You are amazing. You’ll always be my love and my life, sweet girl. I’m going to love you forever and ever, ok?

Love,
Mama

2019/05/21 0 comment

tornado, tornado warning,wornado sirens, tomatoes

Confessions

Tomatoes and Broken Toes

by Deborah Cruz 2013/06/20

written by Deborah Cruz

So, as many of you have noticed, I have been very lucky this summer to partner with some wicked awesome brands and share some great products and even do a couple really amazing giveaways that I thought you’d all enjoy. I love doing that occasionally but at the same time, I want to apologize if it’s been too much consecutively so I really wanted to write a post that was for nothing but me…and you. God, I miss you guys a lot. Crazy effin summer is out of control, even by my standards.

Time to share a funny story, well; I guess that all depends on your perspective. Last week, we had a pretty crazy tornado warning. We live in the Midwest so we take this kind of shit pretty seriously. We don’t mess around with tornadoes or tomatoes as my 6-year-old calls them. You know that same crazy adorable kid who calls wiener dogs ..”CORN DOGS”. I will pause so you can laugh. Go ahead. I do every.single.time she says it. It’s so effing cute I cannot stand it. I never correct her and I never will. Never!

Anyways on that particular night, I had given the girls a melatonin (Don’t judge me! That day was even more cray-cray than that night) and they had just fallen asleep. My sister was in town with her toddler and he had just gone down and it was time for some girl time, gabbing and a good movie. Two of my brothers had come over so it was about to be a full on Cruz kid sleepover, minus two (yeah we are a really big family of Mexibillys).

Anyways, just as I kissed my corn dog kid on the forehead and tried to creep out of her room, the fucking Wizard of Oz warning sirens went off. My brother went into Alpha male mode (my husband was in Cali sending me weather reports and telling me to get the kids to the downstairs half-bath).

As I’m creeping out of the girl’s room, my brother is running up the stairs shouting drill sergeant style to get the kids and get to the first floor. I tried to shush him but it was too late. The kids were discombobulated, half awake and crying about the tomato headed for us. FUCK!!!!! My visibly irritated sister grabs her startled, crying toddler, I grab the 6-year-old screaming, “Tomato, Tomato!” in and out of consciousness and my brother grabbed the lanky 8-year-old who was 70 pounds of solid dead weight.

As we are all running down the stairs like we’re in a fucking war zone or some sort of nuclear war drill, headed for the half-bath to see just how many Mexibillys and their kids could fit into it, this here clumsy lady stepped, missed the 3 bottom steps and broke my fucking pinky toe. No worries, I didn’t drop the kid nor did she wake all the way up. But I learned the hard way how much damage over 200 pounds falling on one little pinky toe can do? A LOT!!! Ouch! Honestly, I am surprised it wasn’t crushed into dust under the weight of the two of us. Poor stupid pinky toe.

Moral of the story, the Tomato never touched down, I did the Tebow at the bottom of my stairs without dropping or waking a child to my brothers’ amusement (P.S. I fucking ROCK!), my toe looks like it has hypothermia and just might fall off and you can fit 4 full-sized, grown Mexibillies, 2 half-asleep children, a crying, pissed off toddler and one bulldog in heat in my half-bath.

How was your week?

P.S. Who’s going to BlogHer because I want to meet you!!!!

2013/06/20 12 comments

kindergarten, back-to-school, first day of kindergarten 2012

Confessions

First Day of Kindergarten Hurts Like a Mo Fo

by Deborah Cruz 2012/08/17

written by Deborah Cruz

It’s the night before kindergarten again and I am not ready for this. UGH! I am dreading it now. I’ve been breaking down all day because my dog’s very sick and we’re not sure if she’s going to make it and now, I am sure tomorrow the crying will be of inappropriate proportions. As I sit here typing, the thought of reading that damn book “The Night before kindergarten” has me choking on tears and knowing what the kindergarten hallway looks like, think a mine field with mothers crying like they are Mary and their kindergartener is Christ on the Cross. It’s every thing I can do NOT to turn around and say fuck it. Never mind, I will home-school; thank you very much.

Oh yeah, I fell prey to this menagerie of crying Mommies last year when I had to tiptoe over their strewn carcasses as I made my way to the 1^st grade corridor. It was brutal. I was holding it in and squeezing my Bella’s hand to reassure her. Damn the letting go. It hurts so bad. I hate the first day of kindergarten. I’d like to throat punch the first day of kindergarten or maybe even roundhouse kick it in the nuts.

The First Day of Kindergarten

I started this post yesterday when I was filled with trepidation and bursting at the seams with nauseating nostalgia. I was up most of the night unable to sleep. Gabs woke me up twice and the dog woke me up about three times. There was not much sleep to be had anyways. This morning I woke the girls up and the Big Guy too. The Big Guy made pancakes while I got the girls dressed, one by one, in a haze of no sleep and a fog of can I really do this? Let my baby start the leaving process. I don’t think I am built to let my children go.

If it were up to me, I would keep them snuggled up in my arms for all eternity. I know it’s crazy. Babies are born to grow up and become adults and go off on their own but why does the letting go have to start just when they are really starting to be interesting? I dressed both girls to perfection in their cute little navy uniforms with the hairstyle of their choice and we were off. Me with the camera on hand and the Big Guy under strict instructions to video tape everything.

As we drove along the same route we have driven so many times before to drop off her sister, I looked to the backseat and saw the baby I loved so much beaming with excitement and fidgeting with nervousness. I pretended not to notice the trepidation. She caught me staring at her and smiled just a little bit bigger. My heart, my mommy heart was starting to quiver. Silently I command myself, “ Don’t ugly cry, lady. You have to wait until you get outside of the building. Never let them see you cry.” Yes, my inner monologue is a pretty bossy bitch.

She has no compassion for me or the first day of kindergarten.

When we arrived at school, she was the first one out of the car. “Mommy, take my picture!” as she posed in front of the welcome sign. I followed silently snapping photos, committing every second of the letting go to memory. Smiling my nervous smile that only my husband recognizes. Gabs and her sister bounced through the hallways, sprinting towards the new year of new experiences; toward growing up. I could feel the pull at my heart as I watched their tiny bodies walking away from me.

After a photo or two beside the “KINDERGARTEN “ sign, it was time to let her go and trust someone else in the world with my most prized possessions; my children. This is the hard part. This is where I swallow hard and hug tight and slowly watch helplessly as I do the right thing and encourage her to go. Oh, how it hurts my heart and stings my eyes. Swallow that lump lady! I swallow so hard that I almost choke on this familiar lump. She runs back for one last hug and whispers, “I love you, Mommy. I’ll be okay.”

I slowly turn and walk away. I sneak one last backward glance she is smiling and coloring with new friends. As I walk away, I can hear her giggle and engage in excited conversation and I remember the words she just spoke to me, “I’ll be okay.”

I know she will. Will I? I didn’t cry, though I really wanted to. I loosen my white knuckled grip on my little girl’s childhood and I look forward to afternoon pick up when I can once again fill my arms with my little girls and my heart can be happy. How did you deal with the first day of school, daycare or kindergarten?

I know eventually this won’t be so hard but today, on the first day of kindergarten, letting go hurts like a motherfucker.

2012/08/17 8 comments