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Oh my girl. You’re six. New grade, new age, new smile. You just lost your first tooth, a few days before your birthday. You’re a kindergartner. You’re learning how to read. You can sound out almost anything that makes sense, and you’re doing really well with all those confusing sight words too. And your writing is coming along. You’re young enough and have enough school ahead of you that I don’t ever drill or quiz you. I’m fine with you learning things at your own pace. But I do encourage you to write things down for me whenever it makes sense in real life. You addressed a lot of the custom tags we made for gifts this year. You wrote little notes to put in the care packages we made for homeless people. When you want to know what something says (you often ask), we encourage you to sound it out for yourself. I’d say you’re right where you need to be. Mostly a kid being a kid, learning what you need to know at your own pace. I appreciate that there aren’t letter grades in Kindergarten. The pressure will be there soon enough. Enjoy being little, little one.
A few weeks back, we got a letter in the mail from your principal containing “respect cards” from your teacher and from your PE teacher, a nod to the kind of person you are even when I’m not watching. You were also given the the first quarter citizenship award for your class. Mrs. Hermanson mentioned how every day you’re an example to the class of how to “shine,” pay attention, have a good attitude, and that she (Mrs. H) frequently tells the class that instead of telling each other what to do, they should just look at you. My heart swelled. I often pray specifically that your tender soul will be always strong, always steadfast in your sweetness, that you will be a good example. This is just one little indication that Lord is answering my prayer.
You make good choices. Most of the time. When it comes down to it, you make my job easy. Being your mom is a blessing. You are good. You’re responsible. You’re kind. You’re obedient. You’re a great big sister. You might whine and tattle occasionally, but then you have to have some tiny flaws. You’re brave. You’re friendly. You’re giving and less selfish than most. You have occasional mood swings, but that’s life. And you’re a girl. My mood swings are much worse than yours, haha. You’re an example to me of how to be a better person. And I mean that. The Lord uses you to convict me of my own bad attitudes. You are forgiving. Patient. Easily entertained. Easily made happy. Content. Your ego is small. You demand very little. Gosh. I just am so proud of you. And I’ll say again… it’s God’s grace to me. I love you with all my heart. I pray to be, and try to be, the best mom I can be to you. God knows where I fail. I know where I fail. Someday as a Mom, you’ll know what I mean. I want the world for you. The best. That includes the best of me. And I’m imperfect. It’s frustrating. But you love me. And that is grace. You’re amazing despite where I fail. And that is grace.
There is nothing that pushes me to seek the Lord like you and your brother. I want you kids to know him, better and deeper than I do. I want you to love him with all your hearts. I want you to not buy into the world’s lies about what will give your life meaning or make you happy. The world is a scary place. The older I get, the more scary is becomes, and the more I have to fight fear about sending you out into the world. But he will be with you. And I have to give it to him. Daily. I want you to never stray, to always keep him in your heart, to know that you know that you know that he is real that he loves you profoundly, that He has a plan for your life, that you were made for him and for a purpose He has prepared in advance for you. For good. (God, help me lead them to you!)
Our bedtime ritual has evolved a little bit. We have always and continue to read books before bed each night. For a couple of years, you have asked me a question or two after prayers, after light’s out. Anything you want. Sometimes they’re silly. Often they’re profound, things like “Mommy, how are computers real?” and “how did Jesus become a baby?” Questions that require effort to answer. You keep me on my toes. Oh, and you called them “queshions” which is pretty adorable. I love that you still have a lispy, little girl voice. In the past few months, you’ve also been asking me to tickle your back last thing before bed. It’s a sweet thing. Mimi did the same for me when I was a kid. It was always one of my favorite things. Those bedtime “cosquillitas”. I think that’s how you spell it. History repeats itself. 🙂 Your brother, like Daddy, prefers back scratches. But you, like me, like the tickles.
One of your favorite things about going to school are the days when you get to be “line leader,” the kid at the front of the line who leads everybody to wherever you’re all going. Your reason for being utterly thrilled whenever it’s your turn? “My friends’ hair won’t get in my mouth.” Haha! Yes. Good reason. I can see that.
You make me laugh. And your sense of humor is constantly developing. Last week you started talking in monotone and ending every sentence with “beep.” Adela, the robot. It’s different, having you come home from school with little things that don’t come from us. It’s fun to see you become your own little person with varying influences, picking and choosing what you like and what will make you, you. You also do a killer Grinch impression. I mean, spot on. You are cracking me up just about every day with it. You walk around calling Josiah “Max” and ordering him around in your Grinchy voice. On the way to school the other day, you and Jo pretending to eat all the Christmas lights you saw on the way.
Something else relatively new is that we share humor. What I mean is, I’m no longer just laughing at the funny things you do because you’re cute and little. You *get* funny things and look at me and *share* the laughter with me. It’s awesome, especially the way we can crack up at the things that Josiah says. I used to laugh by myself. Now, I have a little person who gets it.
Every year is an adventure. Every age. I look forward to it all.
I love every bit of you, Adela. Thank you for putting up with me, for loving me, for being my little helper, my little companion, my daughter. May God bless you this year and all your life. Happy Birthday, sweet girl!