to barclay on his 11th birthday

My precious first baby,

I heard you this morning, waking up to an alarm set at the exact time of your birth 11 years ago. You’re so funny like that…wanting to know the numbers, sentimental about the passing of time. The moment they placed you in my arms is seared into my mind and I can instantly go back. The shock, the relief, the burning desire to protect you. I can’t quite say, “I can’t believe 11 years has passed” because I feel like you’ve been with me from the moment I stopped being a child myself.

You’ve done a lot of growing this year, my love. Physically and emotionally. It was your second year of being medicated for ADHD and the difference is astounding. I love seeing you thrive instead of struggle. We’ve done a lot of hard family counseling this year and it’s been very healing. I’ve noticed a small ribbon of tenderness towards me woven throughout our days. Don’t get me wrong…we clash regularly and are both constantly having to say “I’m sorry”, but there is something there that wasn’t there before that gives me so much hope.

You are brilliant. I’ve always said it. Your grades don’t always reflect it, but I don’t mind much about that. Both teachers you have rave about your curiosity, your interest in what is being taught and your enthusiasm. This year you really got into reading and became one of the top readers in the class.

You’ve also been learning mandolin and guitar with a passion. You had taken lessons before but now you have a fire lit under you. I regularly find you picking several times a day, trying to figure out new songs and new ways to play old ones.

I think you’re so handsome-your shaggy blond hair and a face full of freckles. I love the way you dress. You’re just cool, Barclay. Effortlessly cool. They gave a puberty talk in health this year and since then you’ve been faithful to apply your deodorant and shower regularly. So you always smell nice. I am just tickled about this.

My favorite item I received this year was a crumpled note from you that said, “ You are a rare mom.”

You started baking this year and are so meticulous, it always works out. We’ve been enjoying gluten free cakes and muffins for months. Just last night you just helped me paint a wall in my bedroom and your precision was unreal. I have no doubts in my mind that you will do many incredible things in this life. It’s a joy of mine to think ahead to the man you’ll be.

When baby Ella June was born, you and I took a special solo trip to see her and visit Rainy out in Colorado. You were the best travel companion and I enjoyed every minute of being with you. We ended up staying in the spare room of some people from Africa off Air b and b. They were very particular, very loud and we died laughing sneaking around trying not to disturb them. You were so tender with the baby. My heart just melted. We also go to take some hikes just the two of us, got lots of bubble tea and Indian food. You’re so precious and I loved showing you off to that side of the family.

This spring we got an older dog named Grover and he has been such a comfort to you. I find you every day, curled up in a ball next to him just being still. It’s such a blessing to see you together.

This summer God made a way for you to go to Camp Rockmont again. This was your third year and you enjoyed showing Sullivan the ropes since he had his first year. When I picked you up you were brimming with the joy of the Lord and so mature. You handed me a small wooden button that said “Strength and gentleness”, the character award that you received on your special campfire night. My heart soared. I feel like you are the most “you” at camp.

You’ve had a lot of heartache in your short little life- a lot of it still fresh. But you have been open and willing to work through the hard and oh what an empathetic human you are becoming.

I feel like this is the equinox between child and tween. You wanted toys for Christmas but for birthday you just wanted a water bottle with stickers.

You’re just growing, and I’m your captivated audience.

Every baby is a miracle, every child is precious…but you are mine and I am yours. I am so very, very proud of you, Barclay.

Mama

to lucy miller on her sixth birthday

My girl,

I keep searching for 4’s to put on your cake. That seems about right, but Sullivan caught me and informed me that you will be 6 instead and that seems so unreal. While it just seems like you were born, on the other hand it always seems like you’ve been with us-giving our family that magical spark that only you can. Have I mentioned how we need you??

Last year your 5th birthday happened in the midst of intense trauma for our family. I barely remember it. Nevertheless you danced and twirled your heart away with your best friends and made me feel like a good mama for pushing through. The days following were heartbreaking as I watched you reel from something that wasn’t your fault. But you are light and that light pushed through the darkness and you are here on the other side.

Our year was made extra special with three visits to the New Hampshire cousins and all the fun and chaos that comes with that. You love baby Avonlea and want to help with her. We also got to go visit my friend Ashlee and her new baby Mary. Oh you were in heaven.

This year we moved to a house the the woods and you and I spent many a summer night sitting in our dresses in the cool water of our creek. You love the woods-climbing trees and playing hide and go seek.

We also got a dog this year-Grover. You love him…almost to death. The poor thing can hardly get away from your all consuming love and hugs. “Gwova! Gwova!” you yell every time that we get home and you race the bruddas to him.

You started kindergarten this year and it was as seamless as any transition could ever hope to be. You love learning. You love Spanish and you love your teacher. You also got glasses to wear at school and you look so cute it hurts. You’re not quite reading yet but I will take the blame for that. I haven’t worked very hard at it with you. You’re still writing backwards a good amount of time. I secretly love it.

You poor thing. Your brothers are pretty much relentless with you-despite my best efforts. You are a scrappy little thing who will defend herself till the end. You have started scratching back and it’s brutal. Hopefully they’ll learn their lessons soon. When there’s fighting I’m secretly on your team and I’m glad you stick up for yourself. But cool it on the scratches…

You started ballet classes for real this year and I get to watch you dance your heart out every week and it is HEAVEN. You are by far the most graceful and thoughtful dancer out there. You are also very bossy and demanding of keeping the other girls in line. I think you think you’re the teacher. You’re doing tap too which is SO CUTE. You were Shirley Temple for Halloween and it just made my life. Like some people dream about meeting a celebrity but seeing you as Shirley Temple, this took the cake for me. I got to take you with your Grandmama and Jojo to the Nutcracker ballet this Christmas. You sat bouncing on my lap just entranced by the dancers and the set. It was a dream come true to have you there with me, my tiny dancer.

You are the funniest little thing and make us crack up all the time.

Oh Lucy Miller. You are such a gift to this world, to this mama’s heart. I don’t know what I would do without the joie de vivre you give my life.

I pray you know my love and the love of our Father in heaven so deep down that it is rooted like the trees we love so much.

You are the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world,

Mama

to sullivan on his 8th birthday

oh my little valentine,

Today you are 8 years old. What a sweet little mystery you are to me. You are usually very quiet and engaged in something you love (drawing intricate dragons, finding bugs or fish or reading usually). We’ve had your hearing tested several times because you simply do not hear anyone when you are engrossed like that.

This summer Daddy and I took you on a special solo trip to visit Aunt Jaja and Uncle Daniel in Colorado. You came out of your shell so much and talked almost completely non stop. We went to the most amazing zoo where you had your fill of animals but your favorite part of the trip was their hot tub. Every night you would jump in by yourself and just chill.

Sullivan, this past year has been SO HARD. Barclay has needed almost all of my attention and you my precious one, have gotten the scraps of me. You never complain but I see you sinking deeper into yourself, retreating from all the hurt and I just want to dive in and save you. I only have so much though. I am praying and dedicating this year to learning more about you and pouring myself into loving you. I want to draw you out and let you grow.

Because you don’t get all of me during our chaotic days, you slip into my bed in the wee morning hours and curl your body around mine. We go in and out of trying to get you to stay in your bed but deep down I know you’re just quietly filling your love bucket in the ways you can.

Your gentleness is one of my favorite parts of you, Sullivan. I love when we get a break from Barclay and it’s just you and Lucy. You talk a sing song baby talk to her and are always protecting her and teaching her.

You still love animals and exploring. When we went to the PNW you were always wet , head down in a tide pool. You can find the tiniest creature out of what looks like nothingness.

You have my mental energy…you frequently “just cannot do things” (hills being one of the things we “cannot” do), you don’t like mornings and you barely can talk when you haven’t had food recently.

You are so kind at school and have lots of friends. You wanted to get this special award at school and you worked hard and got it. You came alive with recognition even though I just assumed that it wouldn’t mean much. That’s what I’m talking about. I need to know you more deeply. I want to know you more deeply.

Sullivan, thanks for binding up wounds, whispering your love to me when I can’t lift my head and making me laugh. You are complete love in human form and I am always, always, always in awe that you are mine.

mama