You should know that for the past nine months, your mom and I have been referring to you as various legumes, vegetables and pieces of fruit. For a while you actually were a peanut, you grew to a grape, and then enjoyed various points of existence as a peach, an avocado and eventually made it to the big time pieces of produce like mangos and cantaloupes. According to the App that 100 percent of women who are expecting a child download, you're currently a watermelon sitting right on top of your mom’s vagina. Neat, huh?
We couldn’t be more excited to welcome you to the world. And so, we write this piece to you. Our practice has been to share bits of beauty, fashion and life advice to women so as to make the application of being a woman a little less stressful. Under much of the same pretense, we share the following bits of advice / wisdom with you. Please don’t for a moment believe that we know everything - as you get to know us a little better, and probably once you hit puberty, this will become more and more evident.
She wants you to know:
So, we haven't formally met, but you should know we’ve spent the last nine months together. As each day has passed, I have grown to love you, a complete stranger with all of my heart and simultaneously become increasingly excited / scared as I get closer and closer to officially meeting you. It’s likely i’m going to cry. . . scratch that, I’m going to cry. But in-between those blubbers there is so much I want to tell you. I want to tell you that you are loved by me, by your dad, and by everyone we are lucky enough to call family on this earth, blood related or not. I want to tell you that I will do my best, in every minute, some moments will inevitably be more impressive than others. I want to tell you that I will love you and protect you while doing my best to give you every opportunity to grow into the human you want to be. I want you to be curious and involved with the world, to play with earthworms and love dogs . . . not cats. I want you to grow to be comfortable with who you are, and I want you to be considerate, aware, and kind to others. I want you to be like your dad in all ways (curly hair included), and to know that I love him with all of my heart.
Her two cents:
A couple of weeks ago, your mom and I did a post largely focused on the decision women face when it comes to having, not having, or not being able to have a baby. Your aunty falls under the not having a baby category. As scared as your mom is at this moment, so am I. Your mom and I have been through some shit (Libertee, I’m gonna swear in front of your kid, it’s just best you’re ok with it). But for whatever shit we’ve been through, I’ve always been able to relate to her. I’ve always been able to give her advice that at least had some truth to it. We tested similar waters in life and up until this point, we’ve looked to each other to learn how to swim through it. These last nine months have been uncharted waters. I am both heartened and terrified by the expanse of information available to both me and your mom on google.
Know that I’m lined up to be “that aunty” the one you can call when you’re in trouble, the one who will surreptitiously encourage you to break the rules (just a little), and the one who will expect you to know what surreptitiously means earlier than most.
We’re doing our best to wile every bit of wisdom we’ve come across during our collective 70 years of existence on this earth. We’re taking the honest road, and doing our best to keep it PG13.
- You can't do anything more than once. You can do it again, of course, but if you feel yourself at a precipice in life, take a moment to really take it in.
- Never be unimpressed by the ordinary, because it rarely is. Need we remind you of your peanut through to watermelon days?
- Laugh at yourself, laugh with others.
- No matter how much you want something, it’s never more yours by taking it away from someone else. There's room for everyone.
- Be brave when it scares you and generous when you feel you have nothing to give.
- For Christ’s sake, dance.
- Sometimes you just need to make the music louder than your thoughts.
- Crying is ok. Stop laughing at your Aunty Lecina.
- You get one life, make sure you’re living it. Fail. Try. Laugh. Try again. Take risks (but be careful). Make memories.
- Be kind to your body. It’s with you your whole life.
- Say thank you and mean it. Pay it forward.
- Be nice.
This is for peanut, but the advice is universal.
P.S. from Aunty Lecina:
-You’ve hit the parental lottery.
- Please don’t ask me to get you alcohol until you’re at least 17.
- Don’t be an asshole.
We'll be sure to let you know when the little peanut arrives and take this opportunity to let you know about our BLOG-ternity leave. We'll be back soon...
(with a PEANUT!)