Nine

You turned nine years old yesterday. Nine. How is it even possible that we’ve already come to the last single digit year for you?

You know the thing about nine? It is halfway to eighteen. And I have a feeling these next nine years will go by much too quickly, not unlike the first nine. Before I am ready, you will be headed off to college or whatever other grand adventure God has in store for you as you begin your adult life.

Excuse me while I lock myself in the bathroom and cry for the next 20 minutes.

I know this is how it is supposed to be and I will have to be ok with that, but the thing is, you are almost at the end of your “little years.” The years when you still see magic and wonder in the little things and still believe in the forest fairies we hunted for a few years ago on our last family camping trip in the White Mountains.  You still talk about those forest and garden fairies with absolute certainty and belief. You’ve created entire little worlds that they reside in and point out the small telltale signs that they are indeed hiding there under that bush.  I will mourn the day when the teenage you forgets about them. But I won’t forget. And maybe when you have a daughter in her “little years” you will discover that magical world again.

Being a mother has taught me that time is fragile. You can’t catch it. You can’t hold onto it. You can’t make it go backwards. It slips right through your fingers and you’re left wondering what happened to the last year or five years or ten years. You remember the high points and the low points, but it’s the everyday moments that get lost in the shuffle. What I wouldn’t give for one more day with that little three-year-old who would only wear fancy dresses and sparkly shoes and loved anything and everything pink.

I do miss that little girl with the round face and pig-tails – it seems like you lose a little more of your little girl look each day. Each morning, I can see your cheekbones a little bit more and glimpses of the beautiful woman you’re going to become. But I know that this, too, is how it is supposed to be. God created you with a plan and a purpose, and I look at you and see a fearless girl who is wildly strong and independent and knows exactly what she wants.

You have become an amazing big sister. I will admit there is room for improvement in the little sister department (as will your older brother, I am sure). But I know being there in the middle is a tough spot to be. Regardless, you really do try and make the best of it and your love for your little sister is beyond compare. My heart melts when you worry about her safety or that she is becoming too independent. Which for those who know you, is completely and utterly ironic.

My sweet little firecracker, I can’t wait to see what the last of the single-digit years brings for you, but I am sure it will be as spontaneous and magical and unique as you are. Daddy and I are proud of the young lady you are becoming and count being your parents at the top of our list of blessings.

Happy 9^th Birthday, Sweetie.

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