Dear Isla (And Middle Children Everywhere)

Dear Isla,

I composed this letter to you as I took a shower this morning, before I cried and after I screamed at you. I want so much for you to know, one day, why your mommy loses it on what seems to be a regular basis lately. My dear child, you are a wonder, an amazement. And I feel have pretty much tried to undo me since my pregnancy began with you.

I want to write this, to have this out into the universe, so that one day you can know what it was like from my point of view, because I know you will not know the internal turmoil I go through struggling on how to raise you, how to do right by you.

In a few weeks my dear you will be a total of 4 years old. With your older sister I remember the defiance melting away on the day she turned 4. I feel though defiance is welded in your soul, something age and time will never take away.

I tell people all the time that ultimately YOU are the one I will never have to worry about. You will NEVER do ANYTHING you don't want to do. You voice your opinion, stand up to your beliefs. This will be a wonderful attribute one day when peer pressure to try drugs or have sex has entered your world. You will never follow the crowd.

My only fear is that you will lead it.

Your defiance and stubbornness at this age though has a much different challenge because you do not yet have the knowledge of life that I do. My job is to teach you what I know. I know that car driving through the parking lot can't see you as you dart out in front of it. I know that children can be taken when they run far away & hide from their parents in a public space. I know kids can get very sick by putting unknown substances in their mouths. That in some rare cases these things can take precious children away from their parents that only want to protect them.

But you only know that yell, never hearing the worry, sadness and anxiety behind the scolding. And as much as I can tell you its because I love you, I feel like you don't really feel it. And I know for sure that you don't understand it.

My biggest fear is you will only grow resentful. Resentful of all the punishments you incur that your sisters never do. Resentful of the threats of no birthday parties and visits with friends. Resentful of the moments when I snap and grab your arms and half cry/ scream for you to sit in time out, only to have you jump up and scream in that angry, sad cry, "NO, I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! YOU'RE NOT MY MOMMY ANYMORE!"

Resentfulness that will ultimately block out any useful item your daddy and I want you to know and protect you from. I know this from experience.

I remember growing up with 'the middle child'. I remember being scared out of my wits as my defiant teenage brother stood his ground with my angry parents. There was some violence, a lot of screaming and on my part, a lot of fear. I watched my brother on the outside so strong, physically and emotionally. Only later I saw deep wonderful sensitive & resilient soul that I love and admire today. He was a rock but inside a brilliant gem. I see so much of him in you. I see how diverse his world is, how he could navigate any place his choices took him and made it out the other side a better person. I also remember that some of those places were the result of impulsive (& sometimes poor) choices. Once he was an adult he there was nothing else Mom & Dad could do but watch, they could no longer force him into into the choices they knew best. From my point of view I loved watching him prove them wrong. To this day I'm pretty sure they are the most proud of him, mostly because of his journey. As backward as it was, they parented the best they knew how and view him as a success. But even well into middle age, I know my brother doesn't see his experience growing up as anything but traumatic.

How do I, my dear child, harness your spirit without crushing it?

I see glimmers of your incredible soft and loving side as you gently rub your great-grandmothers hand and speak to her like you would your best friend. You are the first to give the most incredible hugs and cuddle. You seem to gravitate and draw out those who need it. Your smiles are unabashed and infectious. You are naturally exuberant and enigmatic. A truly strong life force to be reckoned with.

There never in this world will be another Isla. And in many ways that's a good thing. We only need one. Her strong spirit, minus her diminutive size, can be crushing to those with more submissive souls. Myself being one.

Know dear that I struggle daily with the best way
To discipline you.
To guide you.
To encourage you.

And most importantly to love you. I am your mommy. And always will be.