Archives for 2019

Happy 14th Birthday, Kiddo

Dear Pumpkin,

As I write this, you are talking to me about making sure we have blankets and bottles of water in the basement in case there is a tornado. There’s not currently any weather going on, but it’s what’s on your mind right now. You’ve definitely got my tendency toward worry and so I’m glad you’re telling me what’s on your mind, even if it’s stuff I can’t fix.

You’re fourteen today. Holy bananas. I still remember the day you were born, watching Mork & Mindy in the hospital with the doctor before you were born, not that there was much time for that. It was a fast labor, and an early morning and for years after, you were such a morning person and I always thought, “She’s just gonna be an early bird for all her life…” But you got trickier to wake up this year – yay teenagers!

You graduated from eighth grade this year and in a month, you’ll be heading off to your freshman year of high school. You really started to find your stride this year, you found a great group of friends, and you caught your groove. It was really lovely to see. You have this group of friends who are creative and weird and funny and I’m happy to see you with your tribe.

You continued to rock your classes, bringing home fantastic grades, seemingly without trying. I know that the rules and requirements – classes you have to take, things you have to do – annoy you. Authority is not your favorite thing. Well, you’re just not a fan for a rule without a reason. It’s not uncommon to explain something to you or tell you about a rule and have you respond, “Well… that’s stupid.” Yes. Sometimes the world is stupid. You don’t want to do something just because you should. You don’t want to just accept that something should be done because it always has been.

You are a theater nerd extraordinaire. You’re always listening to musicals on Spotify. You listen to stuff I’ve never even heard of. I feel like we should go see more shows.

You don’t like cleaning. Or doing laundry. Or cooking.

Singing is your favorite and you’ve had a lot of fun in voice lessons over the past year. It’s given you a bit more confidence and you’ve tried out for roles in shows at school – I was always too shy to do that. I am always so proud to see you go after what you want. This summer, you spent a week at theater camp and you came home at the end of each day just completely wiped out. The choreography was intense and I couldn’t believe that they were teaching kids such difficult stuff to learn in a week and yet you put in 110% every day and you had so much fun at show time.

You can be tough as nails and angry and grumpy.

You can be soft and vulnerable and loving.

I suppose those flip sides of the same coin should be expected when raising teenagers, and teenage daughters, at that – but the loving side is easier for me and I try to not be frustrated with the grumpy side because I know it will pass. (Am I successfully in my attempts to avoid frustration? Uh. Not always.)

I think you are just the neatest. You are lovely and you have the most magical blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

Last night you said to me, “Mom, you do a lot of jobs. You are our therapist. Our taxi. Our chef. You do a lot. We don’t even PAY you. Why do you do it?” I do it because love. Because I love you and your sister so much. I am so very lucky to be your momma.

Happy birthday, Pumpkin.

I love you.

To My Daughter on Her 17th Birthday

Dear Princess,

Today, you turn 17. I debated, briefly, the idea of giving you all of these letters this year. I thought, well… I’ve waited long enough. But then I realized that next year, you will turn 18 just days after graduating high school, and I like the idea of these being some quasi-graduation-birthday gift.

I am already starting to make myself crazy, as you know, thinking about what is ahead for you this year. As I write this, you have four days of school left, four days until you are officially a senior. I don’t entirely know what to do with that notion. I am both tremendously excited for you, and overwhelmed with emotion. We talk about college and I think of the house without you and while I know that this is what I’ve raised you for – to spread your wings and soar – I am also happiest when my birds are in their nest, so to speak. Guess you and I will both do some growing this year.

You continue to amaze me – you always have. Just this week, you conducted an interview with a local coffee shop owner as part of an assignment for your AP Composition class. Later that morning, I went in to pick up a cappuccino. I thanked him for taking the time to meet with you, and he was overflowing with compliments. “She is so great,” he said to me.

“I know,” I responded. “I’m kind of a fan.”

Would I have ever had the guts to do that sort of thing when I was in school? I don’t think so. And while I know that sometimes it’s not the most comfortable thing, you do the dang thing, and you convey this sense of self-assuredness, confidence.

But, I also see the other side. The sensitive side. That side that reminds me that beneath that old soul, you’re still a kid who is finding her way. Who can have her feelings hurt sometimes. Who trusts that people will care as much as you do, even when sometimes they quite clearly don’t have the same kind of heart.

It’s a struggle, as a mom, to see your kids when they hurt but I feel hopeful that each experience helps shape you into the young adult who is constantly impressing me with her caring nature, thoughtful heart, and wicked sense of humor.

And oh, that sense of humor. You make me laugh. Your observations on people and on life are spot-on, a bit sarcastic, and can be biting in the best way. You are a quick thinker, and it’s that quickness that is so delightful.

A year with your driver’s license and I think you’re one of the best drivers I know. You are cautious but not obnoxiously so. You don’t drive in the left lane for no reason. Whew.

You’re a hard worker. On top of school and extracurriculars, you have been coaching gymnastics. I know it was a hard transition to go from competing to just coaching, but I think you’ve handled it well. Your gymnasts are lucky to have you. This year, they offered you a different coaching position but I’m glad you’ve turned it down. It was a wise decision and it will allow you more freedom to be involved with the musical and play at school.

Without gymnastics, you had the time to tackle a new sport. And within months of essentially picking up a tennis racket for the first time, you had an awesome season. I’m looking forward to seeing where you take it – you’ll take some lessons this summer, and keep on practicing. “I just don’t like to be bad at things,” you told the coaches. If they were thinking of underestimating you, I wonder how long it took them to realize you meant it – that you would get better at this sport, and you weren’t interested in just giving yourself time, you put in the WORK.

Your least favorite class has been pre-calculus and I can’t even blame you and I am fairly certain I haven’t used calc since college, so I know you’ll be fine. You’re rocking your fourth year of Spanish, and you’ve mentioned you think you’ll minor in it when you go to college. I love that.

Where will you go to college? I guess I’ll know by the time I write next year’s letter but for now, you’ve mentioned a few and we’ll get going on college visits soon. Ann Arbor has your attention, and I can’t blame you.

Seventeen years ago, my life changed. You and your sister keep changing my life, every day, all the time and in so many ways. It’s not always easy, but I am so very much grateful for every second of it. I am the luckiest mom in the world to be raising you guys, and I know sometimes it seems I’ve forgotten (like when the sink is full of dishes and someone has forgotten to add milk to the grocery list), but I am always aware.

I like to celebrate that especially on your birthday.

Happy Seventeen, sweet girl. I love you with my whole heart, and I am so very lucky to be your momma.

Lava.