Sunday, August 14, 2022

Sweet Sixteen.

Molly Grace.

I couldn't begin to tell you all the ways I thought it would look at sixteen. All the days and months and years that at times crawled like an eternity have now in a blink, transformed to the reality of just two more birthday videos left. How am I still so caught off guard? Fast AND slow all at once. Sixteen tiptoed in like a ninja while I kept watch to greet her at the door. 

Welp! You have officially run out of fingers for birthday pictures now. We have now almost reached the  milestones that seemed downright otherworldly at the time they placed beautiful, curly-cued you in the hands of these completely smitten, newborn parents. Those same parents that are "barely older" yet, somehow find themselves in the hallway guiding you through the last little doors towards your adulthood. 

Could we just walk slowly for old times sake? 

Sixteen years of this parenting gig. Most days, I still feel as if we are winging it, wrapping it up with love and praying for the best. What started with you in my arms sneakily moved to you on my hip... clutched in hand...by my side... freeze tagging to here... skipping right there...biking around the bend...driving over the hill... and now finds me chasing behind often to be willfully shrugged off because "Geez Mom, I've got this."... in the but-you-also-kinda-don't-but-you-almost-sort-of-do weirdy way. 

Such gorgeous blooms bursting into fruition, sweet girl...

Blooming through a lattice of thorns at times, but I'm choosing to hold close the growth and let the stings soothe and heal like surface wounds do with time.

Truth bomb, tho? I didn't love this year, bud. 

For you... for us. Year fifteen carried a heaviness and I wish some days, we could write it all backwards and put some ease where the weary settled in too close. If only life worked that way. Together, we have treaded through the muck of heartbreak, dishonesty, responsibility and stretching of boundaries. This year found us demanding integrity, fighting hard to live transparent, authentically showing up as a family that leans into the difficult growth despite those thorny patches... doing hard... important work. I am proud of us for seeking the tools, listening to understand and gifting amazing grace. Day in and out. 

The sweetness of sixteen, Sister. Sweetness that can only be housing all that space for new blooms. 

There is no one person that deserves it more. Dad and I are your biggest fans. On all days. In all choices. Through all kinds of weather. We always see your rainbow... so grateful that you are learning to see it too.

A sweeter year to come, I know it.  

Mom

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

Oh Annie... you sure are Gr8.

Miss Girl.

The wattage of your inner light is quite possibly enough to power the entire neighborhood in the middle of the hottest, August on record. Hey ERCOT, I've got the solution to grid issues... it's called an Annie. 


Whenever I begin to worry that perhaps Daddy or I have just really been going at this entire parenting thing wrong or feel totally unqualified for this role, I pause and remember that there is no way that could be true. Because with all my heart, I really don't believe that God gives gifts like you to just everybody.

Somedays I look at you and think that perhaps you are the closest glimpse to heaven I have ever come to see this side of Earth. It sounds weird to write it out this way but it really is the only way I can describe it. I have made a profession out of working with children my entire career and I love all my own children with my entire being --- equally and completely--- and celebrate their unique gifts and differences. In my entire lifetime, I have only met two other children that capture the same brightness as you and I have dubbed a term for it. 

I think that you were born with angel light in your heart. 

"Angel light" is one of the most rare and beautiful gifts. The pure joy that comes from it is unlike anything I have ever known. There is a pureness that you really don't find many places. Almost like the awe of a newborn baby, the wonder of a puppy, the authenticity in final moments (having supported bedside for many goodbyes, I am humbled by this secret and beautiful, vulnerable light I have shared in). These are the kinds of lights we should aim to shine in our everyday living but we just can't because the "business" of life gets in the way. 

You live the kindness of truly, everyone being your friend. I can look at you and realize that you have absolutely, never felt one real, unkind thing about a person in your entire life. If we have ever had to scold you, it truly breaks your heart. This year, a police officer pulled us over in the neighborhood because you were dancing in the car in the one street we drove from soccer practice to our house. The officer explained the importance of the seat belt, saw how broken you were that we were pulled over because of you and tried to fix it... poor police man... no sticker was going to fix that... believe me, we know. 

You look at every day as your best day and each encounter as the purest opportunity for something wonderful to happen. I worry because the world is going to work hard to stifle that light. I want to protect it, to build a wall around it and cuddle you in. You don't seem to build the protective, callouses that come from scrapes and bruises of hurt feelings, understand the manipulative tactics of some "friendships" and will just give away your favorite new toy or gemstone or piece of jewelry... often times the day you get it only to never see it again.

We try to explain to you why you can't just give your new possessions away, but then you immediately turn around and ask us, why you can't do that... aren't you supposed to share with friends, give to others...especially those with less things

Such goodness. It is just hard to explain that isn't always how the world works... yet. 

Perhaps part of having angel light is the same part that keeps you from understanding. You can't have one with the other. I guess God knew you would need the fiercest fireball to light, gentle giant to orbit, fanciest-curly boss to lead and keep you safe. You were designed to be ours.

You are so loved, Annabel Jane... by your family, your friends and all those that meet you. Keep shining your light, sweet girl!! We can't wait to see the greatness of year eight!

I love you,

Mom

11:11

 ... 

Lucy. YOU ARE 11!! Like that is on the way to truly becoming big and I have to ask... are all your dreams coming true?


From the minute you came in this world, it is like you knew the plan and we all just had to get on board or get out of the way. That plan has ALWAYS included being big.

God forbid, you encounter limits (which you did --- because hello, you have parents!), and boundaries and social rules and inferred rules... or anything that ever took you from your master plan because there has ALWAYS BEEN A MASTER PLAN in that little busy brain and we just can't keep up. Good thing you were born super short or anything because that would have really stunk to keep a kid like you off roller coasters and the likes extra long... oh... wait. I bet you had nothing to say about that and the fact that your little sister will likely pass you in height this year too... 

Dang.

Eleven years and still our fireball of a Lubird. Sister, you just burn so brightly. WHITE HOT BRIGHT. Sure you no longer have Tiny Lu voice that sounds like she smokes a pack or two a day. You have finally started to grasp what we have been mandating you ask yourself out-loud all the time since you could talk ... " How much is too much?" and I have to say... you are really starting to get it. Sure the emotions, the volume, the intensity, the need to be the expert leader of ALL THE THINGS is still in fact too much at times,  but it is getting less and less extreme and much more manageable. We are so so proud of you. Your passion, heart for justice, advocacy for the underdog, inability to cease leading those around you--- even when you are trying really hard not too --- continues to burn just as bright as it always has and I have to say... I hope that never changes. 

This next year will be the year when all that confidence you have always known and carried so strongly within, will be challenged more than ever before. Honestly, the crumbling of confidence is the worst part of middle school years. Give me all the awkward growth spurts, raging acne and body odor... just let me keep the confidence. It is hard to see someone so great, individual, unique and AWESOME... come to doubt that. If anything, I am hopeful it is a short season of a muted pastel (lovely in its own way but still just a softer, quieter version of its former self... ready to burn brightly again soon...) Because what is our world without a little fireball of Lucy to keep it aglow?

On to 11! Oh, heavenly day!

Mom

I mean...14. (and some change)

 I think it is very indicative of this season in our lives that I log on to write Annie's 8th birthday letter on the early morning hours of August 3rd only to discover I never actually rolled out yours last FEBRUARY. 

My bad, good sir. 


You know, there are all those songs written about life passing quickly, or those well meaning Grandmas in Target looking at my shopping cart of kid chaos over the years and telling me "don't blink" (not to be taken at face value because --yikes-- how horrific would my eye sockets be right now) but it would seem that perhaps they- in fact- might be on to something there. Life is moving faster than it seems I can maintain pace with. Guess I better up my training, because this gal sure isn't dropping this sport yet... in it for the long race. 

NGL-- this has been a really sweet year for us, Gabe. 

You made every sport you went out for, knew the coaches, the team, your value and felt ready to lend your role (in whatever capacity) to grow your teammates to victory. I see you walk to the car on my days driving sports carpool and all these kids I don't know are slapping you on the back or yelling your name across the parking lot to say goodbye and that's not even my favorite part. As you are walking to the car, I notice the quieter kids, not in sports, the ones leaning against the wall still waiting for their ride long after school has ended, paying little to no attention to the loud athletes yelling across the parking lot, glance up from their phones, instruments or sketches... and calmly say "Hey Gabe" wait for you to kindly respond back with a "hey" - which you always do - and then return back to their work. It is not lost on me that you have this profound gift to see all people as they are and make them feel known. The absolute best part about it all though, is that you are totally unaware you even do it. You aren't gathering high fives, collecting people or campaigning some crowd... you aren't after some higher snap score or to be separated into the haves and have nots... you are just kind. Authentic. True. 

You ground people in their space and make them feel like they belong. I see this play out in our family each and every day. Lucy is like a magnet that feeds off of your energy... Molly seeks you out for grounding when she is feeling most anxious ... Annie circles you like a little moon in orbit often giving way to your catastrophic gravitational pull and climbing you like a tree. Honestly, she would make a terrible moon and explode herself in like one days' rotation... but still. 

To see you in a year where you are on top, 8th grade, comfortable... is such a beautiful space to see your gifts shine. I hope that even as all the new of this first year of high school come into view, you find ways to remember and cultivate this feeling in your new space, lean in to your gifts and know that the universe is infinitely more beautiful just with you in all our orbit... 

Happy Birthday, Buddy. Love you so. 

Mom.