You’re officially two. It definitely looks good on you. I’ve actually been telling people you’re two for a few months now because you don’t seem one anymore. One year old is babyhood. Two years old is toddlerhood. I think you hit it early. And by hit-it-early, I mean those tantrums and pouting…. yikes! I try not to laugh when you pout, but I’m not good at that. Usually, you will walk away with your hands over your eyes and just plant your face into whatever is softest. And yes, I roll my eyes at you a lot. I know you don’t believe it now, but not getting to shove knives into light sockets or not suffocating a dog with a plastic bag is just not reasons to cry about. Take it from me.
You’re such a real person now! I know that seems like a weird thing to say but before you were just so different. You couldn’t communicate like you do now. You are beyond stubborn. Stubborn to the point where I’m taking deep breaths and wondering if I should take up meditation. And even though I hate this stubbornness, I love it. Who are you going to be in 16 years? I want that stubbornness to push you to be the best you can be. I pray you will follow your dreams and no matter how many time life says, “no. stop it!” You just push right past. Because that’s who you are.
You play it tough but you’re soft. I can tell because when you lash out in anger and you see me cry or hear the dog squeal, your face changes. It goes from livid to sorry. You always try to fight back your tears because you didn’t really mean it. “S-sorry, mommy…” you whisper. “S-sorry, Bently…” you say as you try to console him. You’re not a mean as you try to play. You’re sensitive. And that’s ok.
Another thing I hope never changes is your love of sharing. Even if it’s the last bite of a cookie, if someone asks, you’ll always give it up. And the smile on your face shows that you were just happy to have a bite at all. You just pass it off and giggle as you climb down from the barstool. Like it was a no-brainer to you. Like it’s just that simple. I hope that even when you’re older, you still share whatever you have, even if it’s all you have. You should never regret giving your best to others, even if they don’t give it back in return.
I hope that you know that I love you. I hope one day you realize that when I say no, it’s not because I want to be mean but because I want only the best for you. I pray that year two will be the best year yet. I hope you climb higher, jump further, and continue to grow into the person that God planned for you to be. Be who you are, no matter what others say.
Dear Addison, You’re One (7.13.16)
Addison: 3 Months (10.18.15)
First Letter from Mom & Dad (2.24.15)
It’s quiet and dark. What very little moonlight there is, shines through onto the bed. Your dad breathes in and out and your skin warms mine as you nurse. The longest layers of your hair tickle my arm and your hand is holding onto my bra, as it so often does when we’re together like this.
It’s your birthday-eve. Or it maybe your birthday. I am too tired to check. You used to be so much smaller, I think to myself. Your limbs are starting to outgrow my hold. A year ago, we met face-to-face for the very first time. I know you will never remember but I pray that I never forget a single detail of that day. Your entrance was so joyful, which I think was an omen to your personality. I thought I knew everything about your dad but that changed when I saw him hold you for the first time. It was like part of him was uncovered. It was something I don’t think either of us was aware was even there. It was soft and caring, not unlike what I had seen when he was with other children, but this was different. It was special. It was a love reserved for you alone.
I grab your hand and intertwine our fingers. You will outgrow my lap, my bath time songs, and my high-fives. You will outgrow your dependency for me to dress you and read “Chu’s Day” (again and again and again). But even when we are both much older and you have kids or pets or a spouse of your own, you will never outgrow my hand. My hand will always fit with yours. It will always write to you and rub your back when you are crying. Even when you “know it all” and eventually go your own way, my hand will always be waiting for yours to reach out.
This past year has gone by in a flash. You literally just started taking steps independently today. Or was
it yesterday? Like I said, I am too tired to check. It’s hard to believe that I am even a parent. I’m a parent to a toddler, none the less. It seems so strange. Regardless, I hope you have a very happy first birthday, Addison. I love you very much. Don’t grow too fast.
It’s been about a year since you came into my life. A year ago, you were a tiny dot on an ultrasound photo and now here you are sitting in my lap watching me type.
I’m not lying when I say you are the most beautiful creature I have ever encountered. You are, in fact, like a rose. You’re so breathtaking and when I stare at you in the late hours of the night, you seem so delicate. You skin is fair and untainted by the sun’s harsh rays. Your eyes are the most perfect shade of sea blue. I want to notice every detail. I want to inhale in this moment slowly, like this is the last moment I am with you. I wonder if you’ll always sleep with your arms in the air or will always hang onto the hair behind your ears.
I’m looking down on you and you seem to have the daintiest eyelashes. They are long and curled up just slightly. You are the happiest baby alive. I love how you flash your big gummy smile at me when you first wake up. You are so beautiful. Even though most of the time I find you with boogers hanging out of your nose or a shirt that looks like you’ve been sitting in the splash zone at Sea World.
Oh and your hair! It’s so floofy! I swear it just sticks straight up 99.9% of the time. But it’s adorable. It’s so light and soft, like feathers. And I just love how it smells. It just has a faint scent of lavender baby soap and it lingers for days. I catch myself taking a big breath in whenever you’re in my arms.
I pray that as you grow older a little piece of this moment will always be woven into your very being. I pray that you will always be unexplainably happy and that the little things will always light you up. I pray you will always be as easygoing as you are now and now matter how many times you have to hop from one thing to the next, you will forever go with the flow. I hope that we always find time to talk. I hope you are always as chatty as you are this very moment. I truly want to hear every word.
I love you so much Addison Rose and these three months earthside have not been long enough, yet have flown by so quickly.
Don’t grow too fast.
Happy Easter from the Sorokas! Hope everyone is spending time with family and remembering the awesome miracle of Jesus coming alive again!
Not only is Spring my favorite time of year, Easter is the holiday that perfectly embodies the season. Easter day always reminds me of how fresh and new everything is around here. Churches and homes are always adorned with lilies or eggs. People walk into church dresses up from head to toe in their Sunday’s best. I honestly think people wake up on Easter feeling refreshed and ready for a new and brighter day (I know I do).
I hope that today, you take a minute to yourself to breathe in the fresh air and smile at the fact that our God is beautiful and living. Today is the start of a beautiful week. Embrace it and look for the beauty in the every days tasks.
Let me know in the comments below what you did today or if you saw/experienced something beautiful!
2 years ago today I became the happiest woman alive by marrying my best friend, Chris. I think I was so caught up in being married I’m not even sure if I posted my wedding photos on Facebook (fail). So today I dug deep into the depths of the external hard drive to gather my photos from a major turning point in my life.
I’ll have to admit, there’s a lot of nostalgia looking back at these photos. I smile at all the happy faces and I giggle at the few bumps in the road (for example, I had planned the song I was to walk down the aisle to for like 3+ years before my wedding, moments before I started walking down the aisle, the speakers decided to stop working so I walked down in silence. Regardless, You’re The One That I Want by Angus & Julia is forever my wedding song). That beautiful day exposed me a love that can’t be replaced or replicated. Through Chris, I have experienced a love that is real. I have experienced a love that is unconditional.
Thank you for loving me when I cry over stupid things like dropping flour all over the kitchen floor. Thank you for loving me when I’m short tempered and raise my voice in frustration. Thank you for loving me when I steal the covers or spread out so far that you’re falling off the edge of the bed. Thank you for loving me when you’ve had to repeat yourself over five times because I keep forgetting what you’ve said.
Thank you for listening to the same story three times in the same day and always acting like it’s your first time hearing it. Thank you for changing our addresses on all our bills so I don’t have to worry. Thank you for pulling the weeds that I’m too weak to pull. Thank you for going behind me and doing things I’ve forgotten about (like switching the wet laundry to the dryer).
I do my best to thank you for all that you’ve done and I know that I don’t always show how much I love and appreciate you. I love you so much Chris Soroka. I’m beyond thankful that God has blessed me with you. You are more than I could have asked for and better than I dreamed. The longer I’m with you, the more I love you. I’m excited for year 3 of marriage and am so excited to see you become a father. Hearing you talk about strollers and swing sets makes me smile for hours. You are an amazing husband to me and I know you’ll be an outstanding father to our daughter.
Happy anniversary,Chris. You will always be the one that I want.