Yesterday you turned seven years old. That’s like a whole year in dog years. You’re practically ancient!
Over the last several days your dad has been reminiscing
about how difficult it was to get you out of my belly and into the world, but
when I remember your birth I remember it differently. Mostly I just remember the first few months
at home alone with you feeling tortured because I didn’t know how to calm you
down or how to get you to sleep or eat enough to get rid of the jaundice and I
felt like a prisoner in my new life as a mother of a newborn. We both felt truly honored to be given the
gift of being your parents and we immediately loved you beyond compare, but it
was rough for me to adjust to being a mom.
The difference in life with you now is amazing. For the most part you make your own
decisions. You get ready by yourself,
you take care of your body by yourself, you entertain yourself, you take care
of your own things, and we mostly just remind you of responsibilities. It makes me sad in one respect because you
don’t need me like you used to, but it’s such a breath of fresh air to be able
to focus on me a lot of the time. Thank you for letting me do that.
You eat almost anything and even if it’s not your favorite
thing in the world, it pleases me so much that you’ll try a few bites without
complaint. You proudly tell people that
you’re the second tallest girl in your class and the tallest girl is only about
a centimeter taller. You read on a 3rd
grade level and consistently get perfect report cards. You also told the dentist the other day that
you’re the second smartest in your class.
I guess you have your mother’s tact.
We’ll work on that. Until then
you just keep doing your multiplication facts, girl.
Jules, you get more aggravated with your brother than I do
(which is certainly saying a lot). You
are meaner to him than you are to anyone else (at least that I know of) and
sometimes it breaks my heart. Other
times I just think about how much he deserves it. Kidding.
Sort of.
You desperately want to be able to invent a real joke and
make Daddy and I laugh. Surprisingly sometimes
you really can. Other times instinct
tells you that we’ve just laughed to be polite and you run off only to try
again ten minutes later. I admire your resilience
and I truly dread the day one of your classmates is cruel enough to really hurt
your feelings badly.
When you got your ears pierced earlier this year it didn’t
surprise me one bit how brave you were.
You’ve always been a tough girl and only barely flinched when you’ve
gotten shots or taken a bad fall. That experience
was no different and I was beaming with pride. Plus, you just look so beautiful with those aquamarine birthstones shining in your ears.
You’re learning about girly things which both terrifies me because
I know I’ll have to guide you and also tickles me to death because I can
relate. You’ve asked us about girls
having babies, you’ve told us about boys that “like” you, you just had a “spa”
birthday party, and you’ve asked for your first friend sleepover.
It’s exciting to witness your growth, Julianna. It’s exciting because it’s different
experiences than my own so I get to do it all over again through you. And it’s a lot more fun this time
around. Thank you for letting me share
all of this with you. Thank you for
being a great kid.
I love you to pieces.
Love,
Mama
1 comment:
I can't believe that I forgot to mention that it snowed on your birthday! That is unheard of here and I can't remember a time when it ever snowed at the end of March in the middle of NC, but it did. Several different times throughout the day we saw lots of flakes coming down. I hope you'll remember it because you're not likely to see it again and I think it helped make the day a little more special.
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