wealhtheow

Erev Election Day

My dearest Sam,

I'm sitting here writing you this letter on the eve of the 2008 presidential election. I hear you babbling yourself down to sleep over the monitor; you are so peaceful and innocent and perfect right now. It is just five days before your first birthday, and I've spent the past month marveling at the changes this past year has wrought, not only in you, but also in me. We've learned so much about each other, and about ourselves, in the past twelve months, and our time together has been the most precious gift I've ever received. 

But that isn't what I want to talk to you about tonight. I want to talk to you about this election. Yesterday I took you with me to canvass for Barack Obama. We knocked on doors, and although almost no one was home, we talked to a couple people, including a former Republican who has become thoroughly disenchanted with his party's abysmal stance on health care and is voting for Obama. I've heard so many stories like that in the past few weeks; the eighty-something black woman who burst into tears after casting her early vote for Obama because she never thought she'd live to see the day when she would vote for a black candidate, or the seventy-six-year-old New York woman who is voting for the first time ever in a presidential election because she is afraid of what another Republican administration would mean to the people of this country. 

Sitting here tonight, I can tell you that this is the most important election of my life so far. I've heard your grandmother and your great-grandfather say the same thing. There are so many reasons why I feel it is crucial that Obama be elected president: he will support a woman's right to choose what happens to her body; he has promised to overhaul our broken health care system; he will help dig this country out of the trillions of dollars of debt by repealing tax cuts; he will restore dignity and credibility to our foreign policy; he is a highly intelligent man who is not an enemy of science; he is a man of faith who is not a zealot or the willing pawn of zealots; and as the child of a single mother who at times depended on food stamps, he can better understand the struggles of the working poor. I am not voting for Obama because he is black, but I will not lie to you; if he wins, knowing that I've helped elect the first black president of this country will be icing on the cake. Knowing that black children in this country, and especially black boys, will be able to look at our president and know that they too can aspire to the highest office in the nation makes me feel that we as a country are taking an important step in the civil rights battle. 

Most people think that Barack Obama is going to win this election, and I agree with them. But I am very aware that it is not a sure thing. I'm very nervous that we will lose this election, and live with another four to eight years of failed policy and dangerous jingoism. I don't want you growing up in a country that hates and fears homosexuals, immigrants and Muslims. I don't want you growing up in a country where many of your friends don't have health care, or where you don't have health care. I don't want you growing up in a country that seems dedicated to eliminating the middle class. I'm scared about the outcome of this election because I want to give you a better country than the one I grew up with, not a worse one.

Tomorrow I'll bring you to the polls with me, and I'll let you watch me vote, and I'll do my best to make sure everyone I know goes out and votes as well. But tonight I'm just praying that our country will make the choice that will lead to a brighter future for you.

Love always and always,

your Mummy

3 months

Dearest Sam,

Today you are three months old! And the is the first month I'm actually both organized and sane enough to write your monthly letter, a la Dooce. One day your mom is really going to get savvy and remember how to post some damn pictures to go along with these posts, because you are for sure the very cutest baby on the block, not to mention the whole world.

This past month has been amazing. Your parents finally figured out that you had reflux, and were not just colicky. After a panicked Sunday morning phone call to the doctor, we got you on some meds and your adorable sunny personality was finally able to emerge. Although you'd been smiling before, this month you have been doing the full-body wiggly smiles, the ones where your whole face lights up and your little body wriggles from the joy of seeing my face, or your dad's face, or the lights on your swing (which you couldn't get enough of at the beginning of the month,, but now sadly have declared hopelessly passe). You could hold your head up from birth, but now you're coordinated enough to keep it level with your body when we pull you to sitting, and that's your very favorite thing to do these days (aside from gorging on the boob). You love "sitting like a big boy," and we'll ignore the fact that big boys don't routinely hork up their stomach contents all over their shirts. After all, you're still just a little tyke.

If we keep you in your car seat, you'll sleep 6 hours at night. But one day you're going to be too big for that seat, and we know we have to start getting you used to your crib at some point. But you're such a sensitive little guy, and you're having a real hard time going to sleep these days. We're getting into a bedtime ritual of a bath with Dad, a story, some nursing, and then I sway you back and forth to sleep for anywhere from 10-40 minutes. You're such a little guy (barely 11 pounds) that this is doable for now, but kiddo, I don't think I'll be able to do it when you're a year. So we're looking at some rocky nights ahead while we get you used to sleeping in your own bed.

You're waking up in the sweetest mood these days--or rather, you wake up screaming like a demented banshee until you get your breakfast, and then you are the flirtiest baby in the world. You smile and babble like nothing could ever be better than hanging out in bed with your mom and dad, and I've got to admit, we're pretty much right there with you on that point. Sam, it's impossible to describe how much we love you. You've made us better people. We're much less selfish than we used to be, and our capacity for love and patience has increased far beyond what I ever thought possible. Sadly, my capacity for sleep deprivation has not increased, and there have been a couple dark days when I get less than 5 hours total. But I'm learning that the world will not fall apart if we just lounge in bed together until noon on those days, getting more sleep whenever we can find it. And if you won't cooperate, I'm finally learning that I can call in the relief pitcher. It doesn't make me a bad mom to need a little help now and then.

Next month you're going up to Pennsylvania to meet your grandpa's family. You look just like your dad, but I can tell already that a lot of your personality comes from this branch of the family, so I'm very excited for you to meet all these aunts and uncles and cousins, and also for you to see your great-grandfather again. I'm already trolling the stores looking for just the right outfit to show off your amazing good looks. You're a little on the small side, but the cloth diapers really bulk up your bottom, so I think you should be fitting into 3-6 month clothes by that time. It's very tempting to buy you every cute outfit I can find, but I need to exercise some restraint. There's a limit to how many outfits you can wear in one day.

Darling boy, I can't believe it's been 3 months already. You and I are so much more comfortable with each other than we were even just a month ago. You are my greatest joy, and every day brings something new. You won't possibly understand how wonderful and challenging parenthood is until you have kids of your own. But when you go away to college, I'll call you up every morning at 5 am and scream "I'M HUNGRY I'M HUNGRY I'M SO HUNGRY I'M GOING TO DIE FEED ME NOW NOW NOW!!" That will give you some sense of this crazy ride.

Much love,

Mummy