Letters to my children - Pretzel Season

Dearest beloveds,

The morning after the 2016 election, I woke up feeling upended. Then the two year old Bean woke up hungry. Oh right, life does go on. Oatmeal here we come.

On the evening of this 2020 election I want to thank you both for bringing me back to Life… again and again. Life in the food, life in the need for jacket and gloves in the winter, life in the need for snack to keep the Cranky Monster at bay.

Dragon, tonight we are snuggling and you ask me, “Momma, when can we have some pezzlers?”

“Pezzlers?”

“No! PEZZLERS!”

“Pincers?”

“NO MOMMA! PEZZLERS!”

“Oh love, I am sorry, could you describe them to me?”

“You know… they are round… we eat them.”

“Pretzels?”

“YES! Pezzlers!”

“I am sorry love, we don’t have any pretzels in the house.”

“Are pezzlers not in season?”

Or the Bean… we realized yesterday that you arm is as long now as your entire body when you were a baby. “I was really this small?”

“Oh love, you were super small, I could hold you in one hand.”

Sometimes you come out with unexpected pronouncements these days. The most recent one being, “Momma, I am glad that Baba is dead.”

I take a breath. Then another.

“I am sorry, could you tell me why?”

“Because then we get to be with you more. I missed you when you were with him so much.”

“Oh Bean…”

I love you both so so so much. Thank you for being my children.