kristen parker http://keparker.com personal work Thu, 11 Apr 2013 04:45:57 +0000 en-US hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.4.2 Dear Sage | Letters to Our Daughters http://keparker.com/2013/04/dear-sage-letters-to-our-daughters-2.html http://keparker.com/2013/04/dear-sage-letters-to-our-daughters-2.html#comments Thu, 11 Apr 2013 00:00:16 +0000 admin http://keparker.com/?p=428 Dear Sage~ Thanks for sharing a room with Wren.  I know you weren’t really sold on giving up having your own bedroom.  I know it’s hard not to have a place of your own to run to and shut the door. I’m sorry about that.  Someday, I’ll make sure you have your own room again.  I know it’s hard to wrap your mind around the fact that we’re adding a new sister to our household.  It’s probably hard to understand why she gets your bedroom.  I promise it isn’t favoritism, but more of an assurance that you’ll get better sleep during her transition time.  Sometimes moms have to make hard choices that you may not understand until you’re a grown-up, or maybe ever. But I do believe that I’m giving you something by taking away your own room. I’m giving you the chance to whisper and giggle at night with Wren. Giving you the security of hearing someone else breathing nearby in the dark nights. I’m giving you another sister to love, and share with. Not to mention the super-cool curtains that we’re adding to your bunk really soon! I know that this isn’t always going to be easy on you, especially because you’re used to being our littlest. But now, you get to be a little sister AND a big sister. I just know that you’re going to be such an awesome big sister to our new baby girl. I love you so much. I promise I will always make time to snuggle with you and that you’ll always be my smallfry.

xoxo~ Mama

 

As you may know by now, I am part of a monthly blog circle with a group of photographers who write letters to their daughters. Please check out Heather Meyer’s touching letter to her daughter here!

]]> http://keparker.com/2013/04/dear-sage-letters-to-our-daughters-2.html/feed 3 Dear Wren | Letters to Our Daughters http://keparker.com/2013/02/dear-wren-letters-to-our-daughters-2.html http://keparker.com/2013/02/dear-wren-letters-to-our-daughters-2.html#comments Sun, 10 Feb 2013 23:05:57 +0000 admin http://keparker.com/?p=356 Dear Wren~ You’re really fascinated by weddings and getting married. You have a list of boys you intend to marry when you grow up. One of the top contenders for your hand is a bit of a “bad boy” and a class clown who spends a lot of time in the principal’s office. The other is super smart and sweet. It’s interesting to watch you make your selections, that’s for sure.  I told you that you shouldn’t worry about getting married right now. You’re only in kindergarten, after all. You have a lot of time to grow up and learn about yourself. (For the record, I think 30 is a good number for that sort of endeavor. Just my two cents.)  You sighed that big sigh- the one you’re perfecting for your teenage years- and you said “Mom. I want to think about it. That’s just me.”  I guess I was the same way, so I can’t fault you too much.

You seem to be learning a lot of social lessons right now. You were very concerned the other day that one of your friends does NOT like princesses, and you do. You were afraid that she might say “Yuck! Ew! Princesses!” to you if you accidentally forgot and talked about them with her.  You were so afraid that she might not like you anymore. I launched into a discussion about how we’re all different, and that we need to appreciate and celebrate our differences. I told you to be proud of who you were, and proud of the things you love.  I told you that there isn’t another person like you on earth, that you are unique and so special. You said “Does that mean I am the smartest person on the earth?”  I guess your confidence is still intact.
Thank you, little bird, for reminding me that we’re all different. For reminding me to stop and appreciate the unique beauty that is you. I feel so honored to get to spend so much time around you. You’re smart, funny, silly, sweet and quirky.  You change the way I see the world, for the better! All my love, Mama

 

This post is a part of a blog circle I participate in on the 10th of every month. Please check out Carla Bagley’s letter to her daughter, here.

]]> http://keparker.com/2013/02/dear-wren-letters-to-our-daughters-2.html/feed 4 Dear Sage | Letters to our Daughters http://keparker.com/2013/01/dear-sage-letters-to-our-daughters.html http://keparker.com/2013/01/dear-sage-letters-to-our-daughters.html#comments Thu, 10 Jan 2013 23:51:16 +0000 admin http://184.173.24.169/~keparker/?p=329 Dear Sage~ Hey Smallfry.  Peanut. Kiddo. Bug. Sage-a-boo. I have so many nicknames for you. Maybe because you’re my baby, or maybe because you shift moods as quickly as you change outfits.  I swear, you go through about 5 different ensembles a day! You leave them all in a trail of garments behind you as you re-dress, re-accessorize, become someone new. You told me the other day that when I choose your clothes, you don’t look pretty. When you choose your clothes, you look pretty.  For the record, I think you’re pretty all the time.  I am fairly certain that you’ll outgrow wanting to wear a leotard, tights, skirt and giant glittery headband EVERY day, but maybe I am wrong.

You are dramatic and entertaining. You delight in making us laugh-our family’s little comedian.  Wren always says that whenever you’re sad all she has to do is offer a hug and you’ll “pop up to happy” with that goofy grin on your face.  You dance and prance all around the house, giving everyone and everything exotic names and beautiful costumes. You draw fantastic pictures of flowers, hearts, princesses with jewels, and our family frolicking in fields. Your people had bodies long before the other preschoolers’ people had bodies. I’m not bragging. Okay, I am. You’re artistic and expressive and I love it!  Part of your artistic personality, I believe, is a tendency to let your little rain cloud become a storm cloud at times.  You occassionally throw a tantrum that makes me question my sanity.  Right when I’m ready to ship you off to bedazzled-crazy-princess boarding school, you always get really cuddly and sweet and affectionate. Clouds part and the sun comes out and a sweet little angel replaces the screaming Sage that was there moments before. It boggles the mind.  You’re lucky that those storms pass quickly, and lucky that you’re so cute.

You told me the other day that when you grow up you want to be “the best chef in the world.” I love that you aren’t settling for simply “a chef.”  I hope you’ll always strive to be the best, and always believe that you can be. I admire your confidence.  Another thing I really admire about you is your generosity. You are always sharing your treats, your toys, your clothes- anything you have with your sister and your friends. You are giving and loving all the time. I have never had to remind you to share. Sometimes I even remind you that you don’t have to share with your sister. You always tell me “it’s okay. I like to share.” My sweet little thing.

You’re a sweet, loving little girl with a firey temper, a quirky sense of humor and a definite naughty streak.  I joke that you’re my “spirited child.”  I will take “spirited” over “boring” any day.  Every day that I spend with you is a joy, Sage. You are so much fun to be around! I am proud to call you my smallfry. Love, Mama

 

 

This post is part of a blog circle that I participate in on the 10th of each month. Please check out Elicia Graves’ letter to her daughter here.

 

]]> http://keparker.com/2013/01/dear-sage-letters-to-our-daughters.html/feed 3 Dear Wren | Letters to Our Daughters http://keparker.com/2012/12/dear-wren-letters-to-our-daughters.html http://keparker.com/2012/12/dear-wren-letters-to-our-daughters.html#comments Mon, 10 Dec 2012 22:58:27 +0000 admin http://184.173.24.169/~keparker/?p=310 Dear Wren~ You’re five and a half. (The “half” is really important to you.)  You’re stubborn and confident and strong.  You’re smart and it seems as if you’re constantly learning something new.  Every time I turn around, you’re reading something on a street sign or out of a book.  You’re doing math in your head, on scratch paper and in chalk.  Your father taught you multiplication. I thought he was crazy at first. Now I roll my eyes when he drills you, but I am secretly proud. I love that you can tell us what 3×4 is without blinking.  You didn’t inherit this math gene from me, that’s for sure.  It’s a relief to know that you will not have the struggles that I once did with algebra and geometry. Crying at a desk in a drafty room while some football-coach-whose-day-job-is-to-teach calls you by your last name and tries to ram numbers down your throat… No. You’ll have a different experience. Thank God. Thank your father!

You’re not especially outgoing, or especially shy.  You’re just content to be who you are, at your own pace. You’re happy to be with your friends, and happy not to be. I admire this quality in you.  I’ve always been one to overshare and I’ve always felt the need to connect, to impress, to shine.  I don’t see this trait in you… except where it concerns me.  You do seem to really, really, want to please me.  I know it may not always seem like it, but you do.  I’m so proud that you are mine.

Though I often find your steady hum of noise from 7am to 7pm somewhat draining, I am thankful that you are musical. I know there are mothers who would give anything to hear their children (attempt to) whistle, sing, hum, hoot, yell, babble and giggle all day.  I love that your little voice can carry a tune, and I love that your simple playing around on the piano actually sounds like music. I think you have a natural talent for music. I wonder if you’ll pursue it.

You just had your first Christmas program at school. I got teary eyed when I saw you up there, with all those other kids.  You were singing songs I’d never heard. You had them all memorized (complete with hand motions!) and your little face was lit up with the biggest smile.  You were so proud of yourself, and you were so complete in that moment- a little person, living a life that was no longer mine, but your own.  The invisible string that tethers you to me is getting longer.  As it should be.

You always tell me that you love me “more than lemonade and lollipops and kittens and everything special.” Which is sweet. (And super annoying when you are saying it for the 14th time when I’m trying to get you to go to bed!) But kid, I love you more.  ~Mama

 

 

This is my December post for the “Letters to Our Daughters” blog circle that I’m taking part in. Please be sure to check out Carla Bagley’s letter to her daughter, Kathleen here!

 

]]> http://keparker.com/2012/12/dear-wren-letters-to-our-daughters.html/feed 7 Letter to Our Daughters | For Wren and Sage http://keparker.com/2012/11/letter-to-our-daughters-for-wren-and-sage.html http://keparker.com/2012/11/letter-to-our-daughters-for-wren-and-sage.html#comments Sat, 10 Nov 2012 19:00:45 +0000 admin http://184.173.24.169/~keparker/?p=304 I’ve joined a blog circle!  Once a month I’ll join a group of photographers that will write a letter their daughters.  At the bottom of each post will be a link to another photog’s page, and you can check out her letter to her daughter and follow the circle of links all the way around!  It should be a lot of fun. We’ll be posting on the 10th of every month. I thought I’d start my first post with a letter to both of my girls, and then alternate between them for all of the subsequent letters. Someday when they’re bigger, I think it’ll be fun to share these letters with them.

Dear Wren and Sage~

My girls. 17 months apart, and best friends. I love the way you play together. I love how you look for eachother when you come home from school. Wren, I love how you don’t like to play unless Sage plays with you.  Sage, I think it’s so sweet that you are always sharing your candy and treats with Wren, even though she never shares with you.  At 4 and 5, you’re full of life and laughter. The sound of your giggles filling the air is the best sound I can think of. I always wanted a sister I could laugh and whisper with. It is magical watching your sisterly bond unfold.

You both have such enthusiasm for the world around you, and you ask SO MANY questions.  I often get really, really tired of your questions.  Sometimes I just can’t answer one more, and I have given you the “beacause I said so” answer that I swore I’d never give.  Sometimes I tell you to ask your dad because he’s really the most knowledgeable about bug anatomy/evaporation/viruses and germs/what happens to the contents of our toilet when we flush it. You’re both very smart. Though you often exasperate me, I am so grateful that you have bright, eager minds.

Little ladies, you are the lights of my life!  You make me so infinitely proud and happy. I can’t tell you how much I love you. Someday, if you have little ones of your own, you’ll know.  I hope you’ll get that opportunity.  All of my love~ Mama

Check out Gretchen Willis’ heartfelt letter to her daughter, Sarah here.

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