Dear Emma Gracie Girl -

Happy Birthday, my sweet, sweet girl. I’ve been obsessing about this post the entire week.  I don’t want to say I’ve been dreading it, but…I’ve been dreading it. I am finding it impossible to write about everything that is floating around in my head (and in my heart) at this moment. What is tripping me up the most is the fact that you are now – NINE! Nine…one little year away from double digits. It doesn’t seem possible.

It is also near impossible to write something that I haven’t already written before. Although you are really trying new things (like volleyball!), it mostly seems that you are just getting better and better at everything you were already so very good at.

You have had a fantastic year as a third-grader, including a recent report card where you could absolutely not get any higher marks if you tried. It was perfect. You were nominated class president and I think secretly enjoyed the little bit of bossiness that it allowed you. To my delight you have taken to the piano like you were born to play, we’ve found a dance class that you really love, and you are finding your voice and place at our church. As I watch you grow, I sometimes have to pinch myself and ask “how did we get so lucky to have a gift like you?”

You continue to work on being a good friend, which I’m so thankful for. But I’m probably most grateful for your vigilance and dedication in your job as a big sister. Nothing makes my morning better than walking you and Addie to school and watching you lean over to kiss her goodbye as you say, “I’ll see you at recess. Love you.”

You are a parent’s dream, Emma Grace. I know we’ll have rough patches (heck, we have already hit a few!), and I’m sure there will be times when we are disappointed in one another, but for every tough moment we have, there are at least a thousand others where I couldn’t be more proud to have you as a daughter.

I love you, Gracie. Happy Birthday and I hope you get everything you reach for this year.

Love,
Mama

Dear Emma Gracie Girl,

Today you turn seven. Lucky number seven. I know I say this every single year, but I can hardly believe how fast time is flying by. I can’t believe that it has been seven years since you made me a mommy.

But what a seven years it has been.

Emma Grace, you are a true dichotomy. And I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if you already know what that word means. It definitely keeps me on my toes not knowing what you will bring to each new day.

Some mornings I have to practically sit on you to get you to open your eyes. “Mama, I’m too tired…,” you’ll groan as you cover your head with your pillow. Other mornings? You’re up with the birds, you’ll bound into our room, climb into bed with a sweet cuddle and you are ready to tackle the world.

At school, sometimes I don’t even get a backward glance over your shoulder as you skip into class leaving me standing at the doorway watching you go. And then other times you smother me with goodbye hugs and kisses and then turn around to make sure I get an extra squeeze and an “I love you” before you head off.

You can recite entire chunks of dialogue, word-for-word,  from movies like The Fantastic Mr. Fox, but you still love to sit with Addie and giggle at “poop” jokes from Fanboy and Chum-Chum.

You have memorized most of the Shel Silverstein poems in all three of his books you own (I love how you turn down the corners to mark your favorite poems – except nearly every single page is turned down!) but you cry if we start Addie’s bedtime story without you – even though it is a “baby book” or the Little Mermaid for the 10,000th time.

You long for the sparkliest, gaudiest,  rhinestone-encrusted (only fit for a teenager) outfit at the mall, yet at the same time you squeal with delight when I hand you a homemade, sweet, (little-girl appropriate) sundress.

I sometimes worry that you are growing up way too fast, but then again, I think I don’t really have anything to fear. I know you are trying to find your way, spread your wings, test the waters – but I also know that you are so incredibly smart you already feel when too much is just, well, too much. You seem to have a pretty good handle on where the line of a seven-year old is drawn. And I sure am happy to have a front row seat while you figure it all out.

I hope seven is a very lucky year for you, Gracie baby. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Happy Birthday.

All my love,
Mama