I Have A 10 Year Old.

present and grateful.

Trying to find the source of Karelyn’s stomach woes, I asked her today if she had any worries.

She railed off about a half a dozen right off the top of her head, including what if something happened to me, a girl saying things at school she didn’t agree with, missing her Dad, burglars in the house, a first grader on the bus telling her she was ugly, her grade dropping down this marking period, what if we move, etc….

“Don’t worry about what might happen, just concentrate on today.  Right now.  If you get up each day and you try your best to do what you can as best as you can that’s all Mommy expects.  Some days are going to be fantastic and some days are going to be crappy, but everyday I love you”. 

I felt she needed this advice today, but really, I think I may have needed it just as much as she did.  A reminder that right now is good enough, that I am good enough just as I am right now.  And so I did a gratitude check on myself, thinking back on  those things that made me happy today.

fresh cut grass.  the way the freckles dot across her nose and cheeks. clean sheets on the bed. the color blue. two girls to snuggle in the morning. her beautiful blue eyes.  a nice glass of wine.  a soft cotton tank top to sleep in.  cherry blossoms. calling my love this morning and hearing his sleepy voice.   old people.  love and laughter.  sunshine. the way the cat sits on the chair and stares at me sometimes.  fresh butter. magnolia blossoms. peanut butter and bananas. the dog curled up between the girls beds.  

growing up.

 

my girl is growing up.

she picks out her own clothes.  if i lay something out she puts it away.  it doesn’t always make sense, but she’s got her own style and as long as she’s respectable, i’m not going to pick a fight there.

she has perfected the eye roll, and the sarcastic head wobble.  i’ve perfected the phrase “stop being a smart-ass”.

last week she had issues with a friend at school.  another friend was excluded and she stepped in and got the cold shoulder from the other friend about it. it threw her for a loop.  i wasn’t ready for catty friends until middle school, but here we are in 4th grade.  she didn’t really talk to me about it.  she emailed her best friend.  her best friend from kindergarten.   i am so glad she has a best friend confidante.  then she talked to Ed.  that’s right, apparently friend issues fall into Ed territory.

this last week she has had a few questions about her physical self.  apparently, body issues fall into my territory, thank goodness.

she’ll be 10 in nineteen days.

i’ve heard the stories my sister has told of frantic mothers running into the library asking for books for their nine and ten year olds caught by surprise by puberty.  i was shocked.  i guess i shouldn’t be.

i’m not ready for her to grow up.

but i realize i cannot be caught unaware.  so today this book collection came for her.  i’m reading it tonight in preparation before i give it to her.  it appears to be a good one.  american girl really puts out some good stuff for this pre-teen set.  she already has one of the books on friendship,  of course, i always turn to a book.

my mother gave a us a book.   it taught us a lot.

apparently it taught my younger brother a lot too.  my mother claims it’s how he got all the girls, with all of that knowledge.

but about my first-born.  i remember how sad i was when she was no longer a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, a kindergartner.  i remember my mother telling me every stage is a good stage and that they grow and change and you find new things to love about them.

for the past couple years, i’ve been watching as Nancy’s girls are growing into adults, and am in awe of her relationship with them.

i hope to have that.

in the meantime, i will cherish everything about the growing wonder of this stage of her life.  even the eye-rolls that i recognize as my own.

and then we’ll deal with the really tough issues.

 

 

the sounds of happiness.

{this morning, 6:00 a.m. just she and i surveying the snow}

Emily is in her room.  It’s bedtime.  She’s giggling like a fiend, then laughing until I swear she could split her seams.   I am two rooms down doing laundry and I can hear her as they video conference in her room before I tuck her in.  I don’t eavesdrop, but I catch bits and pieces.  Like him telling her, “I bet you could do anything if you really wanted to, even lift an elephant” and her saying “Do you want to see how big I can make my nostrils”?

This little (big) girl is unrecognizable from four years ago as the one who had panic attacks in the corners, the one from three years ago who refused to go to school, the one two years ago who had crazy attacks of anxiety over stomach woes.  We haven’t had a breakdown in months over feeling sick, the stomach aches just about gone, just a few bouts of gas attacks now and again.

I am taking credit for about all of this progress.  I deserve it.  It’s been a difficult journey and a lot of hard work, a lot of long days and nights, a lot of tears from her and me both as we’ve made our way together.

But she talks to him differently then she talks to me.  If I stand outside in the hallway, I find she tells him things I wouldn’t otherwise know.

I knew he was good for me.  I realize now how good he is for her too.  She has a happy giggle I never knew she had before.

 

 

grow, be independant.

{found in the back of the car this morning}

what i have always wanted from day one for my girls was that they would grow up confident and secure in themselves.  i just believe that if i can give them the gift of  these two things they have a much better start and a less rocky path on their journeys.  as we ease into this middle section of their childhood i think hanging on to this wish is more important than ever.

**********

i want them to know who they are, but i want them to always accept their changing natures.

i want them to not need anyone to tell them they are beautiful to feel so.

 i want them to reach for dreams and be the person THEY want to be.

 i want them to know they can get there if they work and they stretch and believe.

i want them to not need a boy to be happy, but i want them to find one that makes them feel over the moon.

 i want them to have friends that make them smile and laugh, who are just enough like them to love and just different enough to inspire.

  i want them  to think and question what they are told and then decide for themselves.

 i want them to know that every person you meet in this life has a lesson waiting for you.

  i want them to feel angry and powerless about something and then use their voices to do something.

  i want them to find a spiritual practice they can believe in.

 i want them to take criticism, think about it, and then decide it’s worth.

 i want them to know it is okay to fail, get up, and try again. 

i want them to live, breathe, fail, succeed, think, dream, believe and

grow, always grow.

 

A Poem.

I have written four today, here in the  quiet of the house, but Emily wrote this one, last night and took it with her to school.

Veterans

Veterans are people who fought in the war.

Veterans are heroic and brave.

They might lose their hearing or get an injury.

My Grandpa is a veteran.

He lost almost all of his hearing.

We should respect our veterans everyday.

Even when it’s not Veteran’s Day.

 

Emily, Grade Four.

a place to be.

My girl is sick.  And so it is, in those dark, quiet moments that I feel my greatest strength and purpose.  The feeling of doubts and shortfalls dissipate as I settle into my one true role as mother.  It’s the warmness of her body, the spent look on her face, the sag around her eyes.  It’s the labored breaths, the intermittent coughs, the croaky whisper when she pleads, mommy.  Every miniscule part of her existence needs me in those moments and anything I could have been debating in my mind about work, photography, the state of the house, the state of the world disappears in her need.  In those late night moments it is just me, my girl and some lullabies playing from when she was a baby.  The rest of the world could crumble and fall away and just leave her nestled into me, my hands stroking her hair, touching her cheeks, leaning over to kiss her nose, rub her feet where I know to look for fever first with her.  Anything I aspire to be, any doubts in my mind disappear as I whisper the only thing I can tell her for sure “I’m here and I love you“.  Because this more than anything was what I know I was meant to do with this life.  This is where I feel so confidently that I know that it was meant to be.   If I could do nothing else in this life but be here for my children when they need me most, then anything else is just a bonus.

message from a seven year old. in translation.

“I think you are the beautifulist thing I ever saw in my whole life.   You are the one who made me how I am now.  You are so nice to have around.  You are so nice even though you are can be mean sometimes, but I love you anyway”.

Reminder to self:  This is why I do it.

Never

She whispered in my ear, “I will never hate you”.

I whispered back.  ”There will be times you will hate me, but I will still always love you and then there will be at time you will not hate me anymore”.

She said, “Well, I will never leave you.  I will never run away”.

I wish we could keep that certainty.

Confidence

This is Emily on Wednesday.  First day of school.  First day of fourth grade.  She is steady on her way to the age of double digits.  Last week I decided to stop picking out her clothes for her.  I would like to say this was a brilliant, forward-thinking decision on my part, but the absolute truth is she kept ignoring what I laid out for her and putting  her own outfits together.   Usually these involve bright colors, a hat or sequins hairbands wrapped around her ankles.  As long as she is staying within the bounds of decency I am going to let her go with it.

Because look at that stance  up there.

I am a fourth-grader.

I now go upstairs at school.

I am wearing a scarf as a belt.

I have ONE braid.

I want her to stay this way forever.  Confident in herself.  Proud of who she is.  We are coming up to some hard years for girls. I want her to stand tall.  I want her to laugh her way through.   Dance to her own beat.  Play her own song.  Make up her own rules.  I don’t want her to feel she has to conform.  I want to know that if someone tried to make her feel bad about herself, she will feel sorry that they don’t have the privilege of knowing her.

I read this article in The New York Times about this woman and the work she is doing.  I wanted to know more.  So I’ve been checking out her website.  In all that down time I have.

I think CONFIDENCE could be the greatest gift we could give our daughters.