The last 5 years and Camila’s letter….
Camila's Journey Part 1
Camila's Journey Part 2
You can read about Camila's Birth at links above.
You can read all of Camila's letters HERE.
A little more about Camila. You know the little 5-year-old sassy pants that lives in my house and has more attitude in that itty bitty skinny body of hers, than anyone else I know.
Sassy, yes. Attitude, yes. Bossy, Oh hell yes. Confident, pretty much. Capable, yep. Will she one day be taking names and kicking ass, I hope so.
I don't know where the last 5 years have gone but I am sure they are now lost in the infinite tantrums, eye-rolling and cussing; I mean me not the 5-year-old. Well her too, a little. Camila came into our lives as a surprise. Yes, an unplanned pregnancy! ::insert gasps here:: When I found out I was pregnant again, I cried. Mostly tears of fear but they quickly became joy and happiness. I was scared senseless, though. My son was 10 months old. I had a horrible first pregnancy which ended with an even more horrible C-section. My Husband was a full-time student, working internships and traveled. I was about to be promoted to Assistant Supervisor at my job. I was sure the second baby would be the end of me, and guess what although the pregnancy and delivery were very similar, it was SO much easier the second time around.
How was Camila Isabel named? Well, there is this Mexican group named Camila, and when I become pregnant with Santiago they were a thing. Only I was having a boy and not a girl. So, when I became pregnant again and found out, this time, it was a girl, we knew Camila would be her name. Isabel? Well her Daddy is in love with Brad Pitt, I mean over the moon infatuated, will he hate me for saying this? Yeah, pretty much. But, it’s totally relevant to my story. Where was I? So he loves Brad Pitt. He also loves his movies, one very unknown to me was Legends of the Fall, in the movie a gorgeously mixed Native American/Caucasian little girl named Isabel Two grows up to become a gorgeously beautiful mixed Native American/Caucasian woman who marries, yep, Brad Pitt. She is killed in the movie and it's a horrible tragic love story. My Husband loves drama so he loves that movie and Isabel Two, so Camila is Isabel too.
{By the way, I have been crying the whole entire time I am typing and I can't see past my tears. This is sure to be an ugly cry moment by the end.}
Dear Camila,
The last 5 years have gone by too fast, before you were born I wasn’t sure what to expect. Now that you have grown you are exactly what I hoped you would be. You talk for days on end. You love everyone so much, until you are angry and then we are the worse family on the face of this earth. You have a fierce intensity about you, your focus at times is tremendous. Sometimes, too intense for me. But, we manage.
Your imagination is truly awesome, you have entire conversations with your friends over a fake cell phone. You take fake selfies and text or email people while you blog and “do wo-k”. You sing in the shower which we will catch on video to further embarrass you one day. Your song selections go from the Contemporary Christian songs you hear at daycare all day to Love yourself by Justin Bieber. Who you know is Selena Gomez’ boyfriend. You have no clue what you say sometimes but you repeat it all with such conviction, you would think that you really know about Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber’s drama.
You have now been a ballet dancer, a soccer player and currently a baseball player. You love and want to do it all, until you actually have to do it all, then you are ok with quitting to do something else. You are good at baseball. You are tall, with straight tangled hair and those long skinny legs are all the rage! We love you so much.
Since you have your brother who is now in Kinder, you too want to go to Kinder and want to do homework, ride the bus and go on field trips. Because well you love Santiago so much you want to be like him and with him every day all the time. Him, not so much, except when he is trying to protect you and make you happy. In which case you guys are best friends.
You have a ton of “best” friends, who you get over daily and then become their friends again. I guess that's how pre-school and 4-year-olds roll. You would think that you are a teenager, your thoughts are deep and your drama is very real.
You are very smart and remember people names and then ask about them randomly. You are very crafty and love to learn. You are very thoughtful, and remember things like people birthdays and likes, and on their birthdays, you want to buy them everything they like. We don’t but you would love to.
You love bright happy colors like pink and purple, because you are that happy cheerful little girl. Everything about you is girly, which is beyond me, I am not really that girly. You love nail polish, make-up and pretending that you rule the world. You are strong, and brave. You fight with Santiago and have become very tough over the years, sometimes a little too tough.
You are always sick, or so you think. At school, they call you sickie-wiki. You love being pampered and babied. Yet you are very independent and have learned to do everything Santiago does in half the time. Especially the talking. That you have down packed. You are a little Diva. You love to look pretty and wear dresses but hate brushing your hair or your teeth. Even when we threaten that they will rot and fall out, you don’t care or believe us.
You are loved. No matter what. So much. By so many of us. Don’t forget that. Ever. You tell me all the time that Jesus is in your heart and that we should not be scared. I tell you to please hold on to that. This world is not easy. Some day you will have to work hard for what you want and hold on tight to what you believe in. God will be with you.
I want you to grow up to be a courageous strong warrior who will one day rule the world. I want you to be who you are. I want you to be as strong and confident as you are today. I want you to believe in yourself and not depend on others to validate your abilities. You are strong, you are capable and you will be a warrior. These are things I tell you when you come home sad that your “friends” are being mean or don’t want to be your friends anymore. I remind you that not everyone has to like you or be your friend because that’s the truth.
I am a little harder on you some days and it’s only because I want you to do well in life. We don’t sugarcoat in our home, we tell it how it is. You and Santiago are very much the same way. Honest and raw. We love it.
And, we love you too. So much. Always remember that.
Love you,
Your Momma!
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