Our first, last year of tween

Molly,

You started this year so wide-eyed, anxious and weary of all the changes to come in middle school. Undoubtedly, your rookie parents seemed to have all the wrong words of comfort. We are still learning. To make matters worse, your class schedule was the total opposite of friends that represented the safety of home. So in true Molly May style, you complained about it immensely at home, panicked you would anxiously barf on the bus--- and then all by yourself--- you navigated the hallways of towering teens, introduced yourself to new friends, became involved in school activities and absolutely rocked your first year. I think you be quoted as saying "Middle School is sooooooooo much better than elementary school" --- which speaks volumes because your elementary school is mostly made of magic.

It isn't always easy being the oldest child of a family. Having to pave the way and trudge the unknown. Even your own Mom and Dad never had to forge that path as tweens. We see this and couldn't be more proud of your strength and bravery. This year, especially, you had some pretty big moments of hard. It isn't easy to be a kid in a world of social media, unsettling government leadership and the prevalence of gun violence within schools.  You have had to face dynamics that simply didn't exist in my childhood. Lock downs, student outcries, written statements and walkouts... the reality of our world has forced you to grow up at an unfair rate and yet through all of it, you have displayed nothing short of dignity, grace and a healthy balance of whimsy.

This year is a whole new adventure. One that holds the promise of braces, cheerleading, theatrical performances, new crushes, old friends, new friends and all the awkwardness endowed to life as a seventh grader.  I am confident you will further grow our ever-expanding repertoire of middle school nuances and phrasing that now includes: shipping, lit, bruh, basic, fortnite dances, vines, memes, youtubers and allll the slime my Tupperware could handle. We will fumble in our phrasing, embarrass you relentlessly and always go out of our way to love on you in public. I promise we will cheer faaaar too loudly for you at football games, giggle at your ridiculous love of mascara and sigh through the wonky evolutions your curly( and now slightly green/blue hair) will endure.

I am sure we will seem silly, annoying, too strict and too cautious, and always clueless. We will continue to not care about the "but all my friends" and "I really want" and "everyone else" and it will be exasperating and comforting at the same time. Because in this next year of you, we will continue to be here too. To show up, to laugh with you, to encourage, to mentor, to console, to cherish and to love you. Especially on the harder days.

 Every year, you grow us that much more as a Mom and Dad and every year we couldn't be more thankful.

Love you, sweet birthday girl.
Mom

*****turn up the volume*****



Molly's 12th! from Julie May on Vimeo.

The fourth is four.

Hey, hey birthday babe...

Rockin' the big O-4.

I can already tell it is going to be such a magical year.

Yeeeeeeesssss!!

Oh sweet, Nanner-pajamers. There was maybe never a more magical unicorn of a kid. I asked you this week what you wanted for your birthday and you leaned in super close, put your nose smooshed against my cheek and whispered, "Hmm. How bout' some fun?"

I mean. DONE. 

Quite honestly, you could have asked for the moon and I would have gone over and beyond to capture our moon and all those others that circle Saturn or Jupiter or somewhere else really far away. 

In pressing you a little further for some birthday wishes you followed with "Ooooh. A walk for Rosie and maybe a new leash." You make the best, best friend. I am sure if Rosie George could walk you on her birthday she totally would. I mean TOTALLY.

I guess what I mean to say is that twos are supposed to be tough and three's typically reign in drama but sister, these days are breezy and the sunshine has just continued to warm up my heart EVERY DANG DAY. You might be made of mostly magic, or maybe after all these years I FINALLY FIGURED OUT PARENTING... or maybe (read: probably) we really are just better together. Magical, face-smooshing, birthday wishing for dog walks and some fun kinds of better together.

You are a golden light in my soul, little miss and I am excited for all the bits of joy to come. Last year of preschool, first year of tap/ballet with buddies, two days a week of you and me time before the chaos of life in the big school sets in. 

This magical life of loving you. Such a blessing. Happy birthday, lady sprite. 

Love,

Mommy 

*****Turn up the volume*****

Lucky number seven!

Hey there, birthday sparkler! Seven sure looks mighty bright and shiny!

Kiddo! What a year! I know that time moves quickly in the eyes of every parent but this is one of those years when I look back, I find myself SHOCKED at the amount of growth that has occurred. You entered this year still very little to me. I had to watch you in a pool, help tie those shoe laces and occasionally help you with just surviving day to day... okay, rarely. You were pretty much ready to take on the world straight out out of the womb. Ha!

But to look at you now, all beautiful seven years of you, I have to look really hard to see the little kid. Like really hard. Now, I see before me is this confident, bright, beautiful, passionate girl who rocks it EACH and EVERY day and just leaves us all gaping in the dust of your wake. 

My love, you've got magic in your soul.

If I were ever to live a day in the life of any of my children, I would 100% choose yours. I am fairly confident I would experience every color of the rainbow three times over, all before noon. You are tenderhearted, quick to love and even quicker to forgive. You have a mighty passion for music, the GREATEST difficulty with goodbyes and there wasn't a furry friend on this planet that you couldn't coax in to loving you back. It is the most exhausting and adorable goodness about you. Don't ever change. 

I have absolutely no doubt that this year will be crazy full of adventure. I will undoubtedly hear a million more homemade songs, you will tear through at least 15 more packs of computer paper, rip clear through the knees of seven pairs of jeans and I am assured to find at least a dozen handfuls of outside living in your bed. 

My wild and brave spirit. The world is beyond blessed to stand in the warmth of your glow.

Happiest of birthdays,

Mom

****turn up the music!****

Lucy's 7!! from Julie May on Vimeo.

Double Digits!

Hey kid.

It would seem I went and blinked and suddenly, this happened.

Chronic dry-eye be damned, I shan't be doing that again.

A week ago, you fell asleep on top of your Dad during Ghostbusters wearing a Chewbacca onesie with your fat little hand all smooshed up against your face and I swear for like two seconds, it was like looking at a mammoth version of your 1-month-old, Baby Gabey self. It was pretty much my favorite moment of the year. Same snuggled tummy sleeper with your puppy paws and round ole' rump launched proudly in the air just a-sleepin' through all the excitement on top of your favorite guy in the world. All these years later and in that moment, it was as if nothing had changed. Such a treat for my heart.

Oh, buddy. What a year! All things Minecraft have merged in to the land of YouTube and Roblox, your friends and you are now developing ferocious appetites, your room is starting to smell like if feet and farts were to have a baby, you proudly take off with your sister on bikes with gears, through the neighborhood and you proclaimed that you have "finally become an expert at defensive soccer." Finally. Big changes.

Some things still remain the same though. You can't for the life of you remember to put your clothes in the hamper and leave it two feet away from there at all times. Many times, we are still often left looking for one shoe as we frantically need to be somewhere and you always seem to remember exactly where it is as we are about to pull away and leave you for dead. You still have the craziest palate of any human I have ever met and your insatiable curiosity continues to both get you in trouble and/or completely leave us dumbfounded on a daily basis. So many sentences start with, "Hey Mom, did you know..." and yet I can never ever predict what is about to come out next. NEVER. EVER. PREDICT. IT. A couple weeks or so ago, you had to know how many stars were falling from the sky at the exact minute you were born and if that had anything to do with the number of earthquakes that would happen in the world that year. I just walked out of the room because, Son... I HAVE NO FREAKIN' IDEA and quite frankly, Mom has run out of responses to some of these questions.

10 years, Son.

Your quirkiness, comedic timing and gorgeous little dimple light up my heart in more ways than you could ever imagine. A decade with you... what a dream come true.

Love you so.
Mom

**** turn up the music and enjoy!

Double Digits. from Julie May on Vimeo.