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

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.

Fifteen?! So dang old.

 Girlfriend. Fifteen.

What the heck?!

I know they say that it goes fast and while I don't exactly agree with that as it felt more like the slowest, uphill fast most days encased in a tornado speed year, TODAY... FIFTEEN... seems way too fast. Time is so weird. 

Funny enough, Dad and I look at you and continue to see the same feisty, crazily-curled toddler with all the opinions, your own version of fashion and alllll the facial expressions. Beautiful heart, good intentions and awkward delivery. Our favorite Fancy Nancy. 

There are lots of days the opinions were exhaustive and the frustration seeped through my words. What can I say, I have a lot to learn about patience and giving up control. I forget to believe you are older. I am realizing more and more that your middle name less represents your physical abilities and more of what you give to your parents time and time again as they fine tune their roles of parenting. Grace. Every day we make gains. Being the first sure isn't the easiest but you are doing your best to help us grow. 

Pandemic living is tough for a teen and yet this year you have formed some of the most beautiful friendships, found a sweet guy that loves you, joined various clubs, made varsity cheerleading as a sophomore and maintained well above a 4.0. To say we are proud, is the biggest understatement of the year. 

Today, sister, we celebrate all the new this year will bring. Learning to drive, actual tastes of real high school and glimpses of grown up Molly more and more each day. We used to get little previews... flashes of facial expressions that were a windows to future you and now more and more we are getting longer gazes and full conversations with this brilliant, gorgeous and hilarious older you. How did we get so lucky to land you for our always? 

Love you big, buddy. Here's to the three of us learning all about 15. 

FIFTEEN.

How?!

Love you!

Mom

The last of the sevens.

 ...

Annie Girl.

There is something so magical about six and seven-years-old. 

No longer a baby requiring naps or the constant need for help but not quite the independence of a full fledged schooler--- just yet. Still snuggled into the crook of my arm for morning cartoons, all knobby knees and windowed smiles...a stuffed animal friend clutched tightly in each arm. Oversized, sibling t-shirts for pajamas, your ducky-fuzzed bedhead, play baths over showers and learning to ride your bike without training wheels. There's fairy gardens, Girl Scout afternoons, stuffed animal tea parties and a budding love for journal writing. Hungry for adventures, brimming with infinite joy and not the slightest hint of tweendom on the horizon. It has been my favorite.

You see, with you I am gifted the chance to just soak up the magic of this age in a way I wasn't able to with the others. With everyone else, there was a younger babe (or babes) with infinite needs and a sleepy Mama just doing her best to get by. Now I am gifted this chance to sit in the sweetness of six and seven. Drink it to every last drop and send it off in style. I am beyond grateful. 

Sweet girl, you continue to be the purest form of joy for our family. Every day is your best new day. I don't know that there is teen in our lives without their own dedicated picture reel of one hilarious, Annie May. From the facial expressions, your expressive ensembles to your quirky demeanor-- you keep us all laughing for days. I have at least a dozen silly stories at the ready to always make me giggle when I need it. Like a pocket full of Annie May joy. 

My wish in this lifetime is for everyone to find their own version of an Annabel Jane May. To stand in the warmth that is the brightness of you and feel this loved, seen and treasured. It is a glimpse of the sun. 

May this next twirl around it be just as magical.

Happy Birthday, Nanners.

Love,

Mom

**** Turn up the volume 

Annie is SEVEN! from Julie May on Vimeo.

A Decade of Lu.

 This girl.

Never before in my life have I have ever met a someone like you. The brightest wattage of raw spirit, unrestricted currents of empathy, unapologetically the MOST stubborn person I know... all in one mighty, muscle of a human with next level projection, incredible charisma and absolutely no volume control. 

Girlfriend. 

Some day you will discover the capabilities of your power and my goodness that will be incredible to witness. Your origin story. For now, though, I am quite okay if you remain a bit clueless to your wonder for at least a few more years. Do your parents a solid and maybe get us through at least the first half of the teen years? Please? Because let's be honest, parenting that sort of wildfire is going to be a shitshow learning curve for us all. 

Lucy May, there is nothing that you do in moderation. Just last month you were called to the principal's office for leading a movement against istation and your voice made it all the way up to school district's administration...because... of course it did. The passion is spot on but perhaps a bit more attention to details, buddy. You love big, disagree passionately, compete fiercely, fall to tears without reason and your blue eyes pierce my soul on the daily. You just love people so hard. There is a magnetism to your personality and we are all just drawn your direction--- whether or not we want to be.

This year, true to development, despite all that awesomeness, the insecurities have started to seep in. Your physique is in transition thanks to the onset of puberty and all the hours put in at the gym, your hormones are revving up and the mean girl antics --that you will never understand -- have found a way to thrive amidst a pandemic... which seems pretty unfair. My hope is that one day, you will come to KNOW that you are uniquely and beautifully you and what a refreshing gift you are to us all. We'll get there, buddy. In the mean time, I'll just remember for the both of us, and remind you on the reg, okay? 

You continue to adore gymnastics, soccer, singing, playing your ukulele and all things hanging with besties. Most days, you wake up with a plan for the day and are off on your bike before I have even finished my coffee. If you aren't running around with your brat pack, you are holed up somewhere writing a song, flipping on the trampoline or playing with Annie. I don't know that I have met a kid that loves Hamilton as much as you do. It will be so exciting to see them in Austin this December. Slowly, you have gained some independence this year and now bike around the neighborhood with friends and even stay home alone for a short bit while I run errands within the neighborhood. That autonomy is just so dang delicious. What you wouldn't give to be 15 right now.

But for now, let's just soak in the splendor of ten. That sweet spot of playing outside, believing in magic, reading in trees, still playing with toys and dreaming of big... before all the tech takes over, crushes change friendships and you become the expert of everything like those older siblings believe. Give me a little longer with the scraped knees, wild hair and silly antics, please. 

You see, ten is the best. Just like you. 

Love you, birthday babe. 

Mom 

*Turn up the volume*

Another Teen.

 Well, it is official. We now have two full-fledged teens in the house. 

Heaven, help us. 

This is the last of our "first" pandemic birthdays for the year. Not going to lie, son--- this week hasn't been the most stellar one to endcap it with a birthday. We currently have no water running in our home of 6 people, 5 dogs (currently), 2 cats, 2 rabbits and are still continuing to defrost from single digit temperatures this past year week. In many ways, going out with a bang sure seemed to fit, I guess. 

I sure worried about you a bunch this year. Sixth grade was a difficult transition for you and I was anxious that seventh would find you equally unsettled. Never in a million years would I have envisioned that you would find your footing in a year of so many physical changes, isolated from favorite friends, behind a mask, attempting new sports for the first time ALL in the middle of a pandemic. You challenged yourself with growth in ways my 12-yr-old self would never have been brave enough to do. Dad and I are just so stinkin' proud of you. 

This year, your personal MVP left middle school and you forged on alone to figure it out. Hew to middle school sports, you were quick to discover (much to Mom's sadness) that your body type is absolutely perfect for football. It is just incredible the power that belonging can have on a person. For the first time in months, that angsty smirk taking residence on your face gave way to the dimpled smile I adore. Even if you were trying to hang on to that scowl on the field, you were terrible at it. Your bravery and joy helped me to learn to embrace my own in something new. 

Dad and I know very little about raising a son through the teen years. Just like Molly, we are learning as we go. Our vocabulary is constantly adjusting, you remind me on the reg that I am quite basic, often a "Karen",  mostly clueless, oldie from a completely different century. Everything about your parents is just so 1900s of us. Yet, when we pause and share with you that your words hurt our feelings, you immediately and genuinely apologize. This hormonal façade is diligently attempting to hide  the mushy ball of gabey-baby love living inside. It really is unfortunate that your parents know you so well and see straight through to your core. Such a beautiful heart in there!

You are growing into such a good, young man, Gabriel May. You are kind to friends, loyal, funny, artistic, musical and tenderhearted. There is not a little kid in your life that doubts you hung the moon. You have such a gift for making people feel seen... even if it is to let them know that they are frustrating you. Lean into that gift, Son. It is such a special gift and so treasured by those in your inner circle.

One day, when the mirror of self doubt is put down, I am confident you will finally be able to see all the awesomeness that we see. Puberty is tough... especially when you aren't the fastest to grow. For now, I'll take the angst, the ridiculously loud gaming with friends, the big opinions, eating of all the snacks, your expertise on everything and a good deal of funky smells. It's all a part of the journey son, and where you are heading is nothing short of incredible. I am so grateful to be along for the ride.

Love you so, birthday boy.

Mom 

**Volume Up!**

Molly's golden year.

It's a bit ironic that your golden year falls smack dab in the middle of a global pandemic in a year that brought us murder hornets, lackluster departures from middle school and alllllll this together time. I mean, maybe this day will mark the turn of something new for us all. Wouldn't that be lovely? The brightness of your today to lighten a murky, exhausting year.

Cast some of that golden goodness this way, sister. 

It has been quite a year, birthday girl. 

Tonight was a reflection of so many nights these days... you giggling upstairs in your room with friends on the phone, the neon reflection of your LED lights bouncing off the walls down the hall and a gentle plea for more minutes on your phone before the dreaded NetNanny App locks that ish down. Predictable, slightly annoying and absolutely oozing with the glaze of teendom. We are here for it.

Time is such a unique concept while parenting a teenager. All those years I longed for the life of bigger kids and more sleep only to discover that teens still keep me up, make all the messes and eat all my snacks...just with bigger bodies and louder voices. Probably best I didn't realize that little bit of info in the early years of parenting.  At times this year, we have found discord in our timing, unkind words are shared and the silent resistance of your budding independence crowds my spaces. Growing up can be slightly uncomfortable, no? 

What I don't mention when I seem frustrated, is how easily I can feel lost. Unsteady footfalls, I glance up to realize that the map I have in hand is outdated and while I remember climbing aboard a familiar passenger car, in actuality, I have landed on the express train and I am careening down the tracks at an uncomfortable speed to some place I have never been before. It is overwhelming. You and me. Carving out new paths together--- you counting down the minutes to independence and me clutching tightly to the few I have left with you right by my side. What a weirdy-little waltz of emotion this season can be. I know that the rest of our gang will have it easier down the line and each day, I become increasingly thankful for your patience and grace. We will figure it out together. It's what we have always done. 

So on to this next chapter of high school. Soon our calendar will be filled with advanced coursework, cheerleading, masks and new normals... maybe if we are lucky... the hopeful promise of future crowds. I'm excited for the return of hugs, sleepovers and evenings spent under those Friday night lights. So much joy awaits in your golden year of life. Pandemic be damned, we are going to make it shine.

First to forge the path and the one to make me "Mom". My hardest and best job and all because there was a you in my life. 

Love you, first born. Happy next twirl around the sun.

Mom

A Quarantine SIX

Annie May.

There is a light that burns within you that seems almost other-worldly. Wrapped in impish delight, your magical goodness feels like this rare gift we stumbled upon and somehow have managed to keep for ourselves. In all the logistical thinking that goes with with a weary and crowded mind (read: NONE), I would worry that my time with you might be limited somehow. Like any day, we were going to discover this horrific finding or medical condition that was going to take you away from us. This fear would catch my breath as you snuggled in closer or smiled your twinkly eyes my direction. It was irrationally crazy, untrue and yet- terrifying. You see, I just couldn't fathom how a brightness like that could stay here for always. 

And yet, here we are.

 Your steady glow in this family grows stronger still for six beautiful years and I am slowly leaning in to the truth that you were meant to be ours. How did we get so lucky?

You continue to be so quirky and uniquely you. Shoes lost, clothing optional, covered in someone else's confiscated hair chalk or makeup at all times. Just when we think that you float above reality-- you will hack into our technology, order animal fart apps on our Alexa with secret, memorized codes and change Dad's watch face on a dime without him even noticing. You are selectively attentive to details but only on Annie May time. It is simultaneously fascinating and infuriating. One day, we are going to harness that feral reserve you delicately balance and channel it to save the planet or something. There is some real ingenuity there, buddy.

You continue to be the most incredible, independent player, lover of ALL the cats, fierce beanie boo collector and crazed, makeup enthusiast I have ever met. At bedtime one evening in April, you casually whispered in my ear that you were a "cat in a human body" and I absolutely believe that to be a possibility. Good thing I'm not allergic to cats.

Tonight at dinner we were discussing what you wanted us to order out for your birthday dinner. You immediately informed us all that what you really wanted was for us to get everyone's favorite individual meal and eat it all together. It is your day and you just want to take care of everyone else. You told us that would be your "perfect meal." To quote Molly, "We don't deserve you, Annie". 

You know what, she is absolutely correct. 

Thanks for putting up with all our jaded, brooding and cynical ways and adding to the mix your whimsical light and goodness. YOU MAKE US ALL BETTER PEOPLE. 

Here's to your next year, sweet kitty. 

May it shine as brightly as you do in our lives each and every day. 

Love, 

Mommy

Birthday Video below--- I really think this song was written specifically for you. 

A Pandemic Nine.

Birthday Babe.

Of allll my Mays, leave it to the BIGGEST extrovert of the bunch to land her birthday smack dab in the middle of shelter in place orders during a global pandemic. It will be a year to remember for sure! Don't worry--- your Mom has some tricks up her sleeve to help you feel surrounded by your people and I can't wait for you to be surprised.

This year marked the the beginning climb to big girl status and a step further away from all things our tiny and mighty Lu. There's excitement in this growth -for sure- but it is met with a tiny pang of bittersweet. One day, you'll understand it. There was something pretty magical about the greatness of eight. You are an explorer, innovative, curious, independent with a good dose of magic still weaving throughout your every day life. It is like the best of all worlds and selfishly, I want you to get this sweet spot for so much longer than the world will allow you to have it. I guess we'll just have to enjoy it while we can!

This year, I worried I wasn't present enough for you. That random guilt plagued me at times when I would see you needing more of my attention in spaces where I felt pulled in another direction or toting the line of capacity. I wondered how I could make myself more available, seek you out, fill your bucket with some individualized time. I'll be honest, I didn't do so great at it most of the time. The happy and easy middle kid is so often the one left to drift while my attention gets pulled away. I know you would be the quickest to forgive me for it though. Instantly wrapped in a Lucy sized hug, you would tell me all the ways you love me and land a giant smooch awkwardly and aggressively on my face. The quickest to love always and even faster to forgive.

For such a wild spirit, you have this precious gift for loving people. I see it in the friendships you keep, the animals you seek and the little sister that resides in your shadow. There is a gentleness to your intensity and it paints the most beautiful picture of you. Fierce and loyal. Cunning and mischievous. Athletic and magical. You have struggled at times to see where you fit this year. There were talks about friends vs. friendly and how it is okay to not fit perfectly in to just one box. Some colors are just too bright to be seen only one way. In time, I hope you come to see that as a gift too.

You live the rainbow, sister and paint our world all sorts of colorful.

Love you to the moon and back, sweet girl.
Mom

*Turn Up Music*

Birthday Boy

Hey, hey birthday babe.

I have to say... twelve looks mighty handsome on you.

I won't pretend this year has been all things stellar. We are far too honest with each other to not acknowledge the squishy parts. Lots of big feelings and chalked full of change--- it was one for the books. The comforts of little-kid land in your rear-view found you confidentially chasing your American Idol. You had waited two whole years to share a school with her again and finally, the time had come. What you found in the new spaces, however, were crowded hallways filled with a lot of hormonally-charged, bigger bodies with all the opinions and far less kind words. The reality checks of middle school came at you like a wave and unfortunately, the salt left a sting. It has been challenging to see my self-assured, quirky kid come to doubt all the unique ways that he is beautiful. 

Some years are just like that. In the wise words of Dolly Parton, "Storms make trees take deeper roots." Uncomfortable and awkward in your body at times, but necessary to grow.

Every day I see glimpses of your confidence rebuilding. When you feel comfortable at home, it is like all the hard of the day melts away. The funny videos, late night jam sessions, sketches and hilarious quips never cease to make me laugh. You are beloved by friends and teachers alike, and my hope is that you feel it too. 

This year brought you some wonderful new loves too. Suddenly, your world is all things Topo Chico, hooded sweatshirts, skateboards, Anime and Notre Dame football. You have learned to play the guitar completely on your own. Often times, your strumming has become the peacefulness I look forward to as the day winds down. Dad has adored your growing love of all things football and having a buddy to toss the football with as the sun comes down. Thank goodness for that light up football. Man, it gets a lot of use.

I look back at the pictures that started this year and I hardly recognize that little kid. As Molly would say, you are on the brink of one lovely "glow up". Pretty soon we won't be reminding you to stand tall in your head... you will just stand taller... with your legs. You are the real dill to my pickle, Mr. May. I will forever be cheering on my big-hearted and curious kid. Here's to a year of so much more.

Happy birthday, Gabe. I sure do love you.
Mom

**music up!!**

A Balancing Act

Standing at the stove, stirring our soon-to-be dinner and the distant voices of my daughter and husband exploding some kittens a room over floats around my kitchen. Lost in thought, I feel as though but a minute has passed and yet a quick glance at the computer screen confirms what I know in my heart to be true. Same smile--a bit more worn… same eyes--aged slightly with weary… same passion--softened by experience. Ah, reflections. They just don’t lie. Dang it. 

Carving out spaces to process quieted thoughts arrives with inconsistent dosing throughout the early years of motherhood. Creative outlets fall empty to the chaos of locating lost socks; refilling sippy cups; the goldfish army waging war on the floor of my van. The mundane of daily survival takes priority. It is babies vs. parents and I’m not so sure we’re winning.  

This whole Mom gig. We know it well. How many days was I determined to create predictability, a schedule, some tiny resemblance of a routine only to have it repeatedly kicked out of orbit by this adorably-faced, loudly-opinionated, dictator requiring ALL THE SNACKS and NONE OF THE NAPS? 

Motherhood, y’all. 

My hardest, best work without any gold stars and alllll the bathroom company. There’s a sweetness to it for sure, but it lives under many, many layers of sleepy. It is a sweetness that saturates with time. Thank goodness for that. 

Back to now. The laughter floating over our almost-dinner comes from my 3rd grade daughter. The same squishy-faced babe a blog post or two back is now sporting pom-pom dangle earrings and cartwheeling her way through life. 

Gone are my days of diaper bags, little gym hangs and googling the maximum daily dosing for baby Tylenol. In all fairness, Tylenol did go and change the dosing on all their meds post major recall- right there in the heart of my sleepless season- so some confusion was definitely warranted. Still, it is a season now gone away.  That sweetness of baby time? I may have overlooked it then but on some of the truly, mind-numbing days with middle-schoolers do I go reaching for it now! But that’s life, right? We don’t know until we know and then we delve deeper into some other sorts of unknown. Ever. Evolving. It’s just the best. 

My secret to surviving the Mom hustle? 

Seek out some balance. Actively choose the parts to clutch closely and the memories to let fade. It is about the company that meets you in the crazy vs the “friends” that fall to the shadows. Those peeps late night texting about bloody nose remedies, high school IB programs, and affirming that it isn't your fault that your kids can’t speak nicely to each other? Those people are your TRIBE and feed the balance that enables you to recognize capacity, to draw firmer boundaries and creatively channel some renewal. This life with bigger kids comes with the space that the newborn mamas dream of. Don’t you worry, though. Not everything is foreign. Older kid models continue to arrive with no manual, consistency or naps … and as a fun little bonus they throw in the added gift of hormones. All those smells and really big feelings. 

It's okay, Moms. We can do hard things. We already have. 

Bigger kid world doles out long days marked by heaps and heaps of grace. You’ve learned to forgive yourself more, hide a personal stash of chocolate in the pantry and have friends that porch drop wine. Your babysitters now live in your house and the permission for self-care lives here too. It is about balancing. The space to choose creativity again, to carve out a space for ME. Re-entering blog world once more. 

It is so lovely to be back.  

Officially a Teen

...
Oh, Sister. YOU HAVE ARRIVED. Officially a teenager.

Wait...

There we go.


Sweet girl, you have been speeding towards teen status for the past 364 days and finally your day has come. It's not always the easiest being the baby of your grade is it? Add a little insult to injury but your middle-child and baby-of-their-families parents were September birthdays and the oldest of the school friends. We totally just DON'T GET IT. Just remember, when all those buddies are 40-years-old with all saggy, tired skinned-- you will still be dwelling in an incredibly youthful decade of good skin. Get on with yo bad self.

It would seem that this was the year of the selfie. Don't get me wrong, there were other years of selfies but this was definitely the biggest year of the selfie. Happy selfies, backwards peace sign selfies, the kissy selfies, the frowny selfies and much to your Dad's tummy rumblings--- the mildly sexy selfies. Oye.

We continue to be clueless in all things life but at least you will keep us aware with softer and kinder words. The hormonal surges are there but there is a little glow at the end of the tunnel. We are going to make it... just in time for your brother to derail us straight through the boy version of puberty. Oh parenting. It is a shitshow the best.

All kidding aside, you sure are incredible. Your witty sense of humor, endless creativity and not to mention the fiercest love for her siblings there ever was. Anyone mess with your people and they will be due a visit by the meanest, scrawniest avenger they ever did see. They will rue the day, that's certain. Small and spicy, our diva since day one.

This year, you pushed your boundaries of comfortability. You bravely initiated some space in your life to love on children that have come from such harder environments. You heart was such a gift for those children. You came how raw and vulnerable and forever changed. My wish for you is a lifetime of that feeling. This world needs so much love and you have the most beautiful lot to give.

This is our last little bit in the awkwardness of middle school. Ha. High school is on the horizon and it just about makes my heart stop. This ride just seems to keep gaining speed. Thanks for granting me grace while I struggle to keep up with the newness of TikTok and catching the Woah...with the memes, the vines, the very sad and very quiet musings of Billie Eilish. You trust me enough to share you crazy world with me and I hope it is that way for always.

Here's to you birthday babe. 13 years as Mom and I wouldn't trade a day.

Love you so!
Mom

Molly's 13th Video from Julie May on Vimeo.

High Five, Annie May.

Birthday Babe,

With all the words to ever before cross my mind, I find myself completely inept in capturing down the essence of you. See, you are like this magical, little, burst of light that somehow discovered me and holds closely to my heart. To share you with the world is to lose a little bit of light for me. Most days, I know that is the right thing to do but sometimes, selfishly, I just want to snuggle in a bit longer and barricade the world from you. My creative muse, my silly companion and my last buddy home.

Until now, sweet love.

This year marks the start of an incredible journey for us both. For the first time in always, we will come to navigate the majority of our waking hours apart. Each day, I'm confident will be more wondrous and exciting for you... but oh, how I will miss you!

This year has marked the passing into bigger kid world. Gone are the baby toys, the everyday nap schedule, the sippy cups and a need to be picked up and held all day. Our adventures now greet us on the trails, in parks and trying to chase after those ever-enticing big siblings. More days than not, I want to shout out to the world to slow down... to give me some time to soak it up so I don't forget it all. You see, we have had so much fun this year. There have been ballet days, disney movie marathons, playdates with buddies, carpools, PreK, becoming an amazon alexa expert, alllll the costumes, the bravery (ziplines & waterslides!!), the sassiness... THE OPINIONS. I have loved it all. Well... most of it. Minus that whole trip to the ER business. Oh, sis,  your ability to stay calm in crisis, to breathe away the pain and inability to see, was the most beautiful display of bravery I ever did see. To quote the firefighter, "Who is this unicorn?" My love, that is you. A bright and shiny unicorn that the world just knew we needed to meet.

Five whole years of you in our lives and not a day goes by that I don't thank the heavens and earth for you.

Happy Birthday, Annabel Jane. Excited for this next twirl around the sun.

Love,
Mommy

**Volume up for birthday video!!**

Lulu's gr8.

...
Lucy girl,

My goodness, you are the easiest kid to love! There isn't a day that goes by that I don't stop what I am doing and giggle a little inside about something silly you said or incredible thing you did without even taking note at the awesomeness of it all. My love, you are the QUEEN of badassery. I am quite confident that there is very little that you cannot do and every day I become more and more grateful at how unaware you still are of that. I mean, how does one parent the teenage version of the Queen of badassary? I am a little frightened to find out.

Looking though birthday video pictures of the last year, I narrowed it down to 97 pictures of you. NINETY SEVEN, you little ham. Honestly, I think you had an animal or a baby in your hand in about 76 of them. The rest you were doing something insane and bendy with your body, singing full volume or dressed up in some ridiculous getup. That file of pictures couldn't ring truer of your personality... you live big and love even bigger. Animals and people alike are never a stranger-- only your future friend.

I wish I could tell you that I had all the secrets to navigate those big feelings and the perfect trick to help you keep your volume control in check, but alas, I have never known another you and I am completely learning on the fly. Siblings get snarky with you and you love them even harder. Animals run away from you and so you tame them into submission. Some say go big or go home... you say go big AND go home. You go to our LUCY LOUD home. How empty we would be without you!

You live the entire rainbow, Lulu and the magic just transcends off you to anyone fortunate enough to stand in your glow. It is the most beautiful sight I ever did see. I will forever be chasing your light.

Little and wise. Flexible yet stubborn. Laughter through tears. You hug both ends of the spectrum and just smoosh it all together in a way that only Lucy May can do. You are the muse to our world.

And so to the greatness of eight. Let's go!
Mom

*Turn up music!!



Lucy's GR8. from Julie May on Vimeo.

The GOAT is 11.

Birthday Boy.

I wish I could capture down all the ways you have completely made me erupt in to laughter this year through some sarcastic meme, witty comeback or downright outlandish idea. I swear I absolutely never know what's to follow the daily "Hey Mom..." and I completely hope it stays this way forever. This world is brimming over with big feelings...seismic shifts....chaotic holdings and it is important work to belong with someone that finds your laughter. How many can claim that special person as their only son? You capture my heart with laughter, kid and in this lifetime, there is no greater gift to offer your Mom.

It has been incredible to watch you transition from a quirky little kid to this inquisitive, dreamy-eyed, wonder of a tween. Still a little disregulated with your very big feelings, but there's been so much progress. How quickly you emote it all... and even faster you forgive. We could all stand to be a bit more like you.

This year there were bedtime podcasts, yelp reviews of your sister, a newfound passion for art, bike rides with buddies in the neighborhood and all those dang fortnite dances. You learned that what gets written on text, can't be so easily undone and jokes about religion or politics are much better recieved in smaller crowds. Important life lessons. There were third time runs for class leadership and third time recoveries from that loss. To quote you, "Well losing the election stinks but, at least I introduced so many people to Napolean Dynamite." I mean... Napolean Dynamite is a MUCH COOLER claim to fame.

This next year you will embark on Middle School. Our quirky soul in a sea of so many more kids. It is a season that is marked for many with insecurities and I am hopeful that you hold close how beautiful it is to be unique. You can bet your bunnies I will be reminding you of this any and every chance I get. I have no doubt that you will keep us laughing, redirecting and trying to keep up with your endless knowledge bank every step of the way.

You are my MOST favorite son and every day I thank God that he felt I was cool enough to be your Mom.

Here's to a year of all that and more...
Mom

***crank up that volume!***


Gabe's 11! from Julie May on Vimeo.