Birthday Letter

Dear Elisa,
You turned four this past week. We celebrated your actual birthday with a lovely, low-key day - breakfast with Uncle Joonmo and Auntie Minnie at Millie's (per your request), a walk through the Silverlake Farmer's Market where we used to spend many a Saturday morning, and a playdate with your best friend from preschool. You lit up when you were with her. You're growing up so quickly - you have friendships that mean the world to you now, and such real, living emotions that can be so intense sometimes.

We had a birthday party for you today, a joint party with your sister. We had a tough moment in there - you were fixated on getting to a certain gift that your friend told you about. I was upset that you couldn't play with your guests like a proper host. You wouldn't bend to my control. To the best of my ability, I couldn't talk you out of your emotions, and I was frustrated. I was a bit harsh on you. When I later thought about it, it felt unfair because the gift was something particular from your friend at school and it meant something more to you than the item itself. Having it meant belonging, fitting in, and having commonality with them. I just couldn't understand that at the time and ordered you to put on your happy face and get on with the party.

I later apologized to you, because I think that's what parents should do when we lose patience, or act in a certain way that the situation didn't deserve. We are only human after all, and we're in this whole thing together. I said, "I'm sorry I got upset earlier." You said, "When did you get upset?" I smiled to myself, feeling thankful for how quickly you forgot my anger. I said, "When you were upset at the party. Remember?" You nodded. "Are you sorry that you were upset?" I asked. You nodded again, and we hugged.

I hope our reconciliation will always be this simple. I hope that as you go through this age of another strong season of emotional development, that I will never attempt to stifle your emotions or force you to be happy when that's not what you are feeling. I hope that you will help me to understand that your world is intense at times, so raw that you cannot see things any other way. I am the same way. For all your stubbornness, I love you so dearly. You are my strong-willed, determined little girl. I respect you for it, and I hope that I will raise you in a way that empathizes with your emotions, and embraces them no matter how inconvenient they are. I also hope that you will grow up knowing that you are your own person, and be confident in who God made you to be. I hope that in this materialistic culture of ours that you will not always feel like we only belong if we have what others have. Let's remember that we have to strip all those things away from our hearts to really know who we are and who God made us to be. I hope you will continue to discover that this year.

My favorite moments are watching you play well with your sister. Today I overheard the two of you having a conversation in the tepee, while Daddy was vacuuming. You guys were hiding in there with a bunch of blankets and pillows. You were saying, "This is our car. I'll drive, ok?" and Cara obediently said, "Ok." It was so adorable. Cara fits the role of younger sister well, looking up to you and copying your every move. I hope you will understand the importance of your role in her life. You two are quite the pair and you exhaust me while also filling me with such a deep joy knowing you have each other. I love you so much. Happy birthday, my dear chocolate cake.

Love,
Mommy