Dear Munchie, B and Cupcake,

It’s 9 a.m. on a Saturday and the house is quiet. There were times I thought our house would never be quiet even at 7 a.m., let alone this late. But here we are, you guys are getting older (and so am I) and that’s what big kids do - sleep late. Sometimes, REALLY late.

Maybe it’s the light today, a medium gray sky and a light spring rain. Maybe I’m overtired today. Or, maybe I’m just feeling sentimental, as I can get sometimes, and wanting to slow it all down a bit.

I awoke this morning wanting you all to be small again. I wanted each of you to come in to our room, before Dad and I were ready to wake up, and have you climb in to bed with us. We could “chat” on end, like we used to do for so many years - without a worry about rushing off to a soccer game, piano lesson or birthday party. And ... I wanted you to want to be with me, as much as you used to in those days.

But, those chats were priceless. We all snuggled under the covers as Dad and I gradually woke ourselves up. We figured out the world during those times - you were all still learning things for the first time and we were re-learning. You looked at everything through fresh eyes and enthusiasm and, with that, you re-taught us that wonderment of childhood that most adults tend to forget as life goes on. In unearthing the answers to all your sometimes-unanswerable questions, I grew in ways I could have never imagined before I became a mom.

Now that you are older, much of what you’re learning in school is over my head and I don’t even understand … so, you’re on your own there. But, you continue to teach me on a daily basis … especially things that you are expert in and I am not … like, all things hi-tech, Civil War trivia, the lifestyle of Australopithicus Afarensis, and, fashion.

Most important, you have taught me how to love more than I ever dreamed possible … a little bit more each day.

I want to thank you for all the other gifts you have given me: the reminder to always grab the world around with open and energetic arms; the challenging times (and I’m sure there’ll be more) that helped us all learn about tricky navigation and difficult conversations; the handmade cards and post-it notes with “I love you, Mom” written on them; the backyard summer picnics under the maple trees and even the magic marker (and dents!) on the walls.

Thanks for being adventurous - for camping on the edge of the Grand Canyon; for picking blueberries among the craggy Maine rocks so that we could put them in our pancakes; for building the best sand castles, rebuilding oyster habitats and kayaking with the dolphins in South Carolina; for learning to ski, surf and ride a bike with passion.

Most of all, I thank you for the hugs. And, for being the coolest kids I know, the best kids I could ask for. There’s no one else in the world I’d rather hang out with … but, of course, I understand if you don’t quite feel the same way right now.

I love you,
Mom

Sarah Nicoli is founder and owner of dotmine dayplanners, the fashion meets function dayplanners, based in Ann Arbor. She wants to thank her husband, too, who made this letter possible. And, she wants to remind you to call your mother. You can reach her at snicoli@timemine.com.