Posted in Gratitude

A collision of first and lasts

Polly Pocket

My sweet Katie,

Tonight I plugged the drain of my bathtub, squirted in a healthy dose of bubble bath, turned the not-too-hot water on and lined your Polly Pockets up on the edge of the tub.

This was probably the millionth bath you’ve taken in your seven years.

It seems that so much of mothering is focused on all of the firsts. First smile, first steps, first words, first day of school.

And there’s this span of time wherein you are cushioned by those firsts… where it seems as though each one builds on the one before it and there are so few lasts.

But, something tells me that before long, bath time will be a thing of the past. You’ll move on to bathing… showering… in private and this bubble of time will no longer be spent with me by your side, washing your hair for you… handing you the washcloth.

When you were a baby, we bathed together every night. We played with your multicolored foam alphabet letters, sang a million rounds of Old MacDonald and often you settled and nursed there amongst the popping bubbles.

Those days with you seemed so much slower.

Now our days are filled with lunch packing, school pick up, errands, homework and just the overall busyness life.

We are happy. But we are busy.

And somehow the years between when I felt certain that we had this immeasurable expanse of time ahead of us in which we could run a bubble bath and laugh and sing have collided into nownow when I just know those days are dwindling.

In many ways, now has become a time of lasts intermingled with firsts, where a single day can simultaneously hold joy of the new and melancholy over the no more.

But tonight, I drew your bath and climbed in beside you.

We played with your Polly Pockets together, washing their hair and singing our songs. Old MacDonald has been replaced by the entire Sophia the First CD.

Lasts and firsts.

And in each, I am learning, there is beauty.

Thank you for showing me the way, my dear girl.

I am so very grateful for you.

With so much love,


A dose of happy

If I’m honest, when it came to Halloween this year, my head just wasn’t in the game.

But, last night, when I dressed Katie and Matthew for their evening of fun, all of that changed.

As I braided Katie’s hair and secured the Velcro of Matthew’s race car driver suit, I was reminded that they are just what I need.

A light-hearted night of trick or treating was a beautiful reminder to live in the moment.

And for the millionth time since they were born, my heart nearly exploded from gratitude.

Halloween costumes

Doc McStuffins costume

Lightning McQueen costume


Around tables that formed a rectangle, we sat, fidgeting with our papers, our anticipation and trepidation palpable.

We knew so very little about one another then.

One by one, we read our words, each exposing one small, yet telling piece of who we are.

One beautiful, vulnerable piece of who we are.

Each piece stood on it’s own, but merged together to tell a larger story… the 2012 Listen to Your Mother, San Francisco story.

Being a part of that cast is one of the greatest joys of my life… a treasure that I hold most dear.

And tomorrow, I will walk into a room, not unlike that room in San Francisco, and greet a new LTYM cast. The Sacramento cast.

Over the past week, my mind has wandered back to last year. I’ve been swept up in memories of an experience that I’ve always struggled to find words to adequately explain.

Magic. Pure and simple magic.

But now I feel the tremendous weight of that magic. Can we recreate that here in Sacramento? Will the cast walk away from tomorrow’s table read with a sense of awe the way I did last year at this time? Will they feel alive in a way they’ve never felt before?

Will they walk away knowing that they will be tethered to their cast mates for always?

When I am still, I know they will. I know that the joy of LTYM will climb into their souls and change them in a way that they’ll one day struggle to explain, just as I do. Because that is what LTYM does.

So tonight, I’m taking deep breaths.

I’m trusting the process.

Because I know that the stories they will share tomorrow will be tucked away in their hearts and they will carry those words with them for always.

And for that, I am so incredibly grateful.

Gifts along the way

Before I applied to bring Listen to Your Mother to Sacramento, my thoughts were consumed by the end of the journey… the night when everything would come together on stage and the audience would be swept away in the stories I knew were just waiting to be told.

Having been a part of the LTYM San Francisco cast, I remember the audience’s response… I remember the tears and the laughter. I remember the joy on their faces after the show.

As time passed, my focus shifted to the submissions that filled our inboxes…the funny, the heartbreaking and the uplifting.

This past weekend, those stories came to life in our audition room at ThinkHouse Collective, each one a gift laid before us.

I knew that the weekend would be overwhelming. I knew that gratitude would buoy me and I knew that the stories would climb inside me and become a part of who I am.

What I didn’t realize would be so powerful and what I held onto last night as I struggled with the weight of choosing our cast, was the tremendous gratitude I would feel for Margaret, my beautiful co-producer and co-director.

We spent eighteen hours there in that room, side by side at the long table. She made me laugh, passed me the tissues before I had to reach for them and hugged me when she knew that I needed one so desperately.

Though our friendship formed long before our Listen to Your Mother, Sacramento journey began, this shared experience¬†is one of my life’s greatest joys.

As the sunlight faded and we began to make what still feel like nearly impossible choices, I was so incredibly grateful to have her there with me.

I can’t imagine a moment of this without you, Margaret. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

About me

Nichole Beaudry @NicholeBeaudry Location: Northern California
Each and every day, I strive to appreciate the wonder, beauty, and whimsy in the small moments, the moments that, when strung together, form a lifetime.
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