One Year Down

Dear Pa,

I can't believe it's been a whole year. You were missed, for certain, but it has flown by.

Monkey John is two now. He is really interested in animals (but he is really afraid of animals when he gets too close). He still gets ninny. Tons of people give me grief about that, but I don't care (much). He sleeps in his own bed for most of the night, which I am still in shock over. My baby is growing up.

The Celtics are not the same as they were when you died. Rondo was injured (and out) for most of the season. Why?!?!?! :( Kentucky didn't make the tournament. It was a year of basketball suffering for me. The Finals were still pretty epic though. I cheered the losers, of course.

I love Josh more than I did when you left us. I had a pretty tough winter with frequent bouts of depression. I have been working through a ton of the ugly stuff about life that most people never really work through. I am thankful, and Josh has carried me through it all. You would be really proud to see the kind of husband he is to me.

Speaking of husbands, MINKEY'S GETTING MARRIED! I am not sure how much info I can give you publicly over my blog about the wedding, but I get to pick my own dress in the color I always imagined I'd wear in Mink's wedding. (Yep. I know her.) I also get to have a manicure and pedicure, and I plan to look really pretty. I so wish you were here to see me (and the bride, of course; she is wearing just the dress I imagined she'd wear. I'm excited!). Aaaaannd I get to plan quite a few parties (or help plan), but I've got sooooo many ideas! I wish you were here to take part in the shenanigans.

Calley has the biggest baby boy ever. He weighs about a half pound less than John (and is 15 months younger). He's also really sweet. He could probably take Mase & John out, but he probably won't because he's too precious. Mason still loves you. He knows that you miss him. I really hope that you don't miss us. I hope that you are as you should be: too enthralled with the beauty of our Savior to care about much else. The good in us is Him, all Him.

But about Mason. He is SO GROWN. Mama said he went to VBS all by himself without giving his Meme or his mama a second thought. Of course, I wasn't there. But I wish I could go to VBS. VBS is one of the number one things I miss up here in Michigan. I haven't seen too many of them, and they're all for like age four and older, so John couldn't go. Oh well, I'll take him one of these days. Also, Mason starts school in just a little over a month. I repeat, MASON STARTS SCHOOL IN A MONTH! I am really not sure how this is possible. Three days ago, you started The Last Song and got off early to meet your first great-grandson. He calls school "big class." He'll go to Mrs. Debby's school, so I am happy about that. I know she'll look out for him. I think he's gonna do great in school, but, let me tell you, you would have Mary-Lou-ed him big time if you'd have seen that boy playing t-ball. Stressful. But then we just laughed. He was only three. (I think if you were here, he would have at LEAST stayed on the field.)

To end on a very positive note about Mason, he is the world's sweetest kid. (John is a gangster.) I am not sure how this happened; Calley got the sweeties, and I got the gangster. ;) {Love you, Liz & Piggy Boy.}

I have been doing the 30 Day Shred with Josh everyday. I am doing pretty well with level one. We will move to level two on July 4. (Don't mess with me that day. I might be laid up in the bed.) You know me and Calley. We are fatty boos, but always trying not to be.

I went to my first Tigers game. COMERICA PARK IS AWESOME! We played the Red Sox. John was just getting over a sinus infection, so he didn't have the best time (and it was hot as Hades), but other than that, it was a perfect day! Also, the ball game cured him! He was back to his old antics as soon as we got home!

I want to tell you some serious stuff now. First, I miss you. There are STILL days when I can't believe that I can't tell you something. I thought I'd be done with those days. I always want to ask you what you think of Jason Aldean. He released this perfect song called Fly Over States. I wish you could have heard it.

I also really, really want to set aside space & time to honor your memory (especially today). I will never forget you, Pa. I will never forget how much you invested in me and I don't want to let others forget either. Today, if nothing else, I remember you. I asked Josh for his favorite memory of you. He said that he liked how you called him Josheeway. I liked that too. I could never ever pick a favorite memory of you, BUT ...

I loved being with you at lunch every Sunday after church, listening to you talk about people I had no clue who they were. Pretending to be listening. Secretly plotting to change the subject. I loved your voice.

I loved talking music with you. Since you died, I have been the biggest country music fan I know (ask my begrudging friends ... Haha!). Thanks for introducing me to the greatness of Johnny Cash, George Jones, Conway Twitty, Tammy Wynette, RANDY TRAVIS, The Judds, Loretta Lynn, and the general creativity of country music.

I loved riding in your truck. The seats are comfier and more inviting than any other truck.

I loved that you hated to fish. Thank you, God - a like-hearted person. MOST BORING THING EVER!!!

I loved when you taught me stuff. Like how to plant watermelon, how to drive a tractor, rules of basketball, etc. I miss your expertise. (So does Mama. She just needed a toilet repair.) :)

I loved you. Cleaon Delmo Cannady. The whole package.

Happy 1 Year Homegoing Day. You are missed.

Love always,

Ashley Sheree

Dear John

This space has been quiet for just a little too long. This winter (and spring, the continuation of winter) has been hard. I am here. I am okay.

But today I am not writing to catch you up. Today I write for John, my two-year-old son, my tasty taco.

Dear John,

As I look at you today, I cannot believe my eyes. A boy, a real boy stands where my baby once stood. Though still a ninny addict, you have the haircut to prove your big boy status. Today you said words like elephant (e-samp), tiger, penguin (pee-gum), seahorse (hee-horse) {Anyone noticing a pattern here??}, and when you fell off the toilet, you looked at Dada and said, "I'm okay." You are big. You are so smart. Mama is so proud of you.

Your second birthday has been over for twenty minutes now. Looking back over these two years you've lived, as we launch into your third (!?!?!?), Mama has one thing to say to you: Thank you.

I want to thank you today because you, my sweet son, you have taught me more in two short years than a lifetime full of other people could. You have taught me that when I say I can't, truth is, I already am. You have taught me that it is alright to lean on Dada for help. You have taught me all the words to the Thomas the train theme song, the Chuggington theme song, the movies Madagascar I, II & III + Cars 1 & 2. You have taught me to listen for music in the everyday. The whirring sounds of white noise as you sleep. Sweet sleepy song it sings; thank you, God, for sleeping baby.

Two years ago yesterday, June 2, 2011 was one of the more brutal days of my life. Giving birth in an OR is not really an enjoyable process. It's frightening, cold, very impersonal. I can only remember bits and pieces now, but I remember you being cute and I remember you being hard.

Hard to handle.

You wouldn't nurse. You wouldn't sleep. I guess this is sort of normal behavior for a newborn, but you weren't like I imagined you'd be, son. You weren't the "good baby" I knew I'd have. Not. Even. Close.

You pushed every single limit I had during that psycho newborn stage. I remember feeling very depressed. I remember wanting to be pregnant again. This time I'd eat less frosted sugar cookies and maybe you'd be better behaved, more well-adjusted. I remember the defeat that crept in everyday, and then the resolve to keep feeding you, to keep read-singing you that blasted ABC crinkle book (foreshadowing of a passion you have for reading/the alphabet ... Go, Boo Boo!), to keep trying to get both of us dressed by 4pm. You were hard, John. Thank you for that. The hardness of your infancy is a treasure to me. I have never learned more about myself, my God, and the people made in His image than I did during that there season. I love you for it, angel-boy.

When your first birthday came, you were chubbier and cuter than I ever imagined you could be. We celebrated. You survived. We were all still breathing, our family of three.

Your first birthday was yesterday.

No, really. I remember it so well. We went to the Tot Lot. It was freezing. Your daddy had that unfortunate haircut. A few weeks later you were my hero at your party. Where did it go? Your second year? It can't be over so soon.

I remember some moments. That time you were covered in chocolate & strawberry at the park. That habit you have developed of pushing my face when you're not quite ready for me (or you) to fall asleep. I remember the first time we read about a "hee-horse." I remember the first time you climbed into your "stroll-poll" all by yourself. I remember, John, and I am trying to let the days go. I am trying not to dwell on the fact that they go fast or the fact that I want so many of them back. But I do ...

I asked your Dada today if there's anything he wished he'd done differently these last two years parenting you. He said, "My biggest regret parenting John was that haircut" (first bday haircut, that's the one). Here's the thing, Bub, I do have a very real regret these past two years.

I wish I would have stressed less, enjoyed more.

John, the day you were born was a miserable day. I was so worried about you nursing. Everything was so heavy. And though I wouldn't trade what you did and didn't do on that day, I wish I could have breathed. I wish I would have drank you in and allowed myself to fall in love that day. You were/are so lovable and so precious to me.

Those first four months were off-the-charts stressful. Though I HAVE NO REGRETS about persevering with the ninny (just look at us now!), I should have stepped back more often and marveled at the skinny, skinny baby God had entrusted to my care. What a gift! What a treasure!

And during those dark, dark days of formula. #shame & #despair, I should have been dad-gum proud every solitary time I fixed you a bottle of non-mama-milk. I was being the best mama I could fattening you up, making you cuter, and I was still giving you the good stuff every chance I got. Heck, I should have felt like superwoman!

And when you finally latched, John, I did celebrate. I did thank God over and over. And then I thanked him some more just to make sure He knew, really knew how I knew He had heard me. How I knew that He was great, but even then, that I knew that He was good & loving & kind too. THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING MY DREAMS COME TRUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But then I worried. Were your nursing sessions long enough? Geez, Ashley, calm down.

And there was always the issue of holding you. Yes, I said holding you. {Disclaimer: I hold my baby all the dang time.} I just generally am thinking about all the stuff I should could be doing during all the dang time. Stupid stuff like cleaning, cooking dinner, folding laundry. I wish I would've held you and talked to you and read to you more. I wish I would've said, "I'll worry about stupid stuff when he's two and cares more about trains & animals (esp. hee-horses) & playing on the iPhone than he cares about being in Mama's arms." Silly me.

People like to ask why you have your own hashtag on IG. Answer? I'm weird. Your hashtag is #wakeyboo. When you're 18 and graduating high school, I'll #wakeyboo your grad pics. The reason you're called #wakeyboo is because you really, really don't like to sleep. Going to sleep for you is always an accident. Yep. Life basically rocks for your parents. We go to bed with you and wake up with you. {Now is not the time to school me about sleep training. I've heard. I'm not interested.} In short, I am trying to say that I should have loved you better (and basfholasfuhejrei-ed at you less [basfholasfuherjrei-ed is the outpouring of emotions from Mama to child past Mama's bedtime]) during those precious, fleeting night-time hours. Currently, your Dada rocks you and puts you down in our bed every night. You are getting so grown, and starting to sleep more and more like a big boy. #thankGod

I don't want to miss any more moments with you, John John. They are too precious. Someday soon you'll leave me for my beautiful daughter-in-law who I hope is named Julia (favorite name that Daddy won't let me name a girl). I know now that you are truly only mine for a short, short season; proven short as your second year went by in a day.

I think I have shown marked improvement in all this motherhood stuff (by God), but you, sweet taco, you are my firstborn. Bless you, you are the one I make the most mistakes on. Thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me figure this thing out (somewhat) with you. Your third year, I'm all in. Join me?

I love you more than I ever dreamed I could. You are very literally my treasure. I was so poor before you!

For this lifetime, baby,

Your Mama

P.S. Happy Birthday!