16 years old

You've never ridden a school bus to or from school. There are lots of reasons for that but there is one reason I haven't shared with you. And, honestly, it's probably the biggest reason.

Since kindergarten, I purposely time my arrival at the end of a school day so that I can be near the front of the pick-up line. I always turn off my car and sit in silence and wait to see you emerge from the building. Construction paper crowns. Macaroni necklaces. Friends. Boys. Cell phones.  And, always your big, bright, contagious smile.

Whether you waved excitedly while wearing your big, puffy coat and snow boots over your striped tights, or ever so subtly glance my way and change coarse towards my direction, I've always known the exact moment you realize I'm there to get you.

The days of me sitting in the pick-up line are numbered.  Being sixteen and all.

SIXTEEN.

But I'm still watching the wonderful story that is you. And I'll be there at pick-up anytime you need.

I love you.

Happy birthday!

Love,
Mom

Excuse me one moment while I

Excuse me one moment while I brag on this amazing daughter of mine, won't you? At 15 years old she is proving to be a remarkable young woman. One to be remarked upon. Recently friends of hers were at our house. A few are new this year and as I talked to one of them she said that she really wanted to dislike my girl because she is just so good at everything but impossible to dislike because she's just so nice.

Isn't that one of the most wonderful things you can hear as a mother? I've known it all along. I mean, if you've read my letters to my daughters each year that I post here (and here and here and here and others,) you know that I've been talking about her special way with people for years.

Also, she competed at the State Track Meet Finals last weekend.

And that woman you saw plastered against the chain link fence in front of the sign that said "Don't stand in front of the fence" who was snapping dozens of photos and yelling crazy things like "Run! You got this! Go! Go! Go!" who nearly forgot to breathe for the entire two mile race and tore through the crowd to be the first to fist bump you at the end?

I have no idea who she was.

-dana

You're 15

I'm making you chicken fettuccine alfredo for dinner. Cause pasta is, hands down, your favorite kind of food. Like, any kind of pasta. Even cooked pasta just poured into the colander in the sink to drain. You are constantly sticking your fingers in there sneaking noodles.

This smile. This expression. You. It's exactly how the world sees you. Happy. Relaxed. Funny. Confident. Encouraging others and so supportive of their achievements. 

On the topic of achievements, you've got many. Start a rigorous high school program? Handle it like a pro. Decide you want to run competitively? Make it to State your first year. Encourage your group to take a project in a new direction? Be asked to present it to the whole school.

Confident and humble. Determined and inclusive. Great qualities by anyone's definition. They are the very essence of you. When I look back at what I've written past years on your birthday I see it as a common theme. It's just who you are through and through.

So, we will be eating chicken fettuccine alfredo shortly. Along with a salad. You and I were standing in the produce section of the grocery store thinking salad would be the perfect side dish. My hand was reaching for Romaine and you said that although you know I like more healthy lettuce options, you really were hoping for a nice Iceberg. You said "nice Iceberg" the same way a French chef might refer to an expensive bottle of wine. I laughed and grabbed the Iceberg.  For my birthday girl.

I love you.
Mom

17 times around the sun

We spend a day each year taking note of another trip around the sun. This marks your 17th.

But there's one thing you might not know. It's that one day isn't nearly all that is celebrated inside your momma's head. Many days throughout your year(s), I look at you and feel like a spectator of an epic tale that you are writing.  I watch and see an event and feel the grandness of it. And the smallness of it. And sometimes I see it like a tiny dot on a long timeline of events. Other times I take the deepest of breaths trying to suck in every detail and imprint them on my memory so as to never forget.

I feel like new sunglasses, like a brand new pair of jeans

I feel like taking chances, I feel a lot like seventeen

I feel like windows rolled down, new city, streets and cabs

I feel like anything can happen, laughing,

You take me right back, when we were kids

Never thought I'd feel like this

Like when I close my eyes and don't even care if anyone sees me dancing

Like I can fly, and don't even think of touching the ground

Like a heartbeat skip, like an open page

Like a one way trip on an aeroplane

It's the way that I feel when I'm with you, brand new

Brand new

                                                -- Brand New by Ben Rector

I love being in your seventeen year old world.

I love being your mom.

Happy birthday sweet girl.
Love,
Mom

I refuse to desensitize

Sticks and stones. Guns and bombs. Sitting at the dinner table talking about terrorism. What is the solution? As a momma, I want to sit down with a suicide bomber. Crazy? My heart breaks. I want to understand what makes them think they are performing god's will. We all bleed the same color.

I refuse to become desensitized.

-dana

14

 1.  This was the year you grew taller than your sister. Much to her disgust dismay.

2.  You're in your eighth grade year at school and I sense a subtle shift in your attitude towards academics. You've always been an excellent student but I just  feel you putting more into it this year. Perhaps it's that you like certain subjects more than others. Or maybe you know that your chosen path for high school is rigorous and you are preparing yourself the best that you can.

3. You've always just somehow known that hard work pays off. See number two above. And look back at letters I've written you in the past and a recurring theme is your hard work and determination. It's just in you.

4.  Mario. You're obsessed. I think it all started when your sister was gone for a few weeks this summer and you played one day. I say obsessed but I think that's a bit dramatic. It's more accurate to say that you get hooked on it for a few days and then go weeks or months before playing again. You especially like to laugh at me or your dad when we agree to play with you. How on earth do you keep from falling off the edge of anything? Never mind the fireballs, lava clouds or snapping flowers.

5.  Our whole family had such a memorable vacation this summer to Boundary Waters Canoe Area but, I dare say, you had the most fun. You paddled like a champ, stood on the dock for as long as it took to catch a fish, giggled that the solar shower spot was open and exposed to the world on one side, chased the sun as it set each day via paddle board, jumped off the rock into chilly water and encouraged the gang to run off the dock countless times. I found myself watching you during the trip and wanting to be just like you. 

6.  We dropped you off at camp for a week this summer. You were my first child I left knowing that I wouldn't talk to until I picked you up a week later. Gear bin dropped off. Counselors met. Health check complete. And then you walked down the hill and out of site. Seven days later you walked back up that hill into my arms with stories to tell for days. I missed you like crazy. 

7.  Often times you put your wet hair into a single braid down your back and go to bed.

8.  And your effortless messy bun is enviable.

9.  Pasta! You can smell it from a mile away and always slip your fingers sneakily into the colander before the hot noodles have even been rinsed.

10.  Most mornings if I can't find you, I know that I can open the mudroom door and you will be using a wet paper towel to clean your sneakers.

11.  You like to sing. The same line. From the same song. Over and over and over. (Until I wail, "Go to the next verse or find a new song!!!")

12.  You receive flack for doing lots of standing around when we are all cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. Truth be told, however, you're not just standing around. You are also telling jokes and stories (or perfecting dance moves) that make the daily clean up lighter, funnier and more enjoyable.

13.  You love my sugar cookies.

14.  And I think this year I'm going to have some Nutella on hand when I make them. I can only imagine how big your eyes will get after meticulously spreading a perfect layer of the cholately goodness over top your favorite cookie and taking a bite.

Happy birthday sweet girl. I love you so much.

Love,
Mom

Sixteen of the sweetest

 1)  You make us laugh. Whether it's a silly dance move, a funny observation on the world or watching you get a case of the giggles, you make us laugh each and every day.

2)  You're not happy unless everyone is happy.

3)  I love your willingness to try new things even if sometimes it takes a little encouragement from those you love. Like jumping off the boulder into the cold lake this summer.  Or calling the school and letting them know how much you wanted to be part of the mentor program. Or taking on leadership roles even though you already have a full plate.

4)  You have the most beautiful, thickest, gorgeous hair I have ever seen.

5)  The way you've tackled high school is impressive. My chest swells with pride when I think of all that you are accomplishing each and every day.

6)  You spent a week on the Appalachian Trail this summer!

7)  And even though I didn't get to see or talk to you for two weeks while you were prepping for and hiking the AT, Dad and I are so proud of you for taking on that challenge and mastering it like a boss!

8) You're a great cook and adventurous eater.

9)  I love that a good book stays in your head and sometimes makes it hard for you to start a new one. It's almost as if you feel you would be betraying the characters of the story by moving on. I get that. I really, really get that.

10)  You're gentle, kind, thoughtful and considerate. I think I say that every year on your birthday but there really are no better words to describe you.

11)  Well, there are additional words too. Like smart, conscientious, understanding, and forgiving.

12)  And accepting. You accept people for exactly how they are. It's not in you to try to mold anyone into what you think they should be. Or to judge them for being how they are.

 13)  Fashion flair! 

14)  Thank you for taking the time to notice things that matter to others. You make me feel heard and understood.  Teenagers get a bad rap for being self involved but the woman you are becoming is far from that. You take mental note of things happening in other peoples lives and are first in line to celebrate, commiserate, mourn or comfort whatever the case may be.

15)  You're beginning to understand that you have wings. The world is a big and wonderful place and you are grounded and well equipped to maneuver it. Trust yourself. You've got this.

16) Reread number 15. You really, really do have this.

Happy 16th birthday sweet girl!

I love you.

So much.

-Mom

13

Look at you there sitting on the train tracks with our dogs at your side.    

It seems like just yesterday you were born.

You've filled our home with laughter, light and love ever since.  That laughter part is especially true between you and I. Sometimes we finish each other's jokes and giggle and snort so much that we forget the cause.  

You grow and stretch and change and gently cause our family to do the same.  And you keep me on my toes.  Like the time this summer when we were driving to pick your sister up from Driver's Ed class and you were telling me a story.  You kept talking.  I kept nodding.  And then you were laughing.  And I was questioning, what? What? What's so funny?  Apparently your story took a preposterous turn of finding a giant hamster wheel in the cellar and I proceeded to nod and agree.  I clearly wasn't listening and you knew it.

Your determination, competitive spirit, and natural athletic ability make you a force to be reckoned with whether on a playing field, classroom or everyday life.  Not in a watch-out-I'm-going-to-take-you-out kind of way.  Rather a come-on-join-along-and-be-awed-at-the-grace-by-which-I-achieve-every-single-thing-I-set-my-mind-to.  All while encouraging your comrades and making them feel like there isn't anyone else you'd rather be with.

I look into your brown eyes and my soul smiles.

Happy birthday sweet girl of mine.

I love you.

-Mom

She's 15

Fifteen today.  This one.  My first. So many firsts.  And she eases along.  Finding her way. Figuring out.Testing her wings. But hanging close.

This mother and daughter thing.  I question every single day.  Every. Single. Day. Am I preparing her? Am I giving her wings? Am I doing this right?  Am I teaching her everything she needs to know? Will she be ready?

You're 15 today.  In my mind we should still be singing our guts out to Disney songs.  Instead it's on an ever rotating pop radio station where every song sounds the same (to me) but still manages to make us break out in spontaneous dance every now and then.  In my mind I should still be able to lick my thumb and clean a smudge off your face.  Instead, you pull down the mirror from the visor and inspect it yourself.  In my mind we should still be questioning if you have four apples and take away one, how many apples do you have.  Instead you have complicated equations and formulas and variables and my mind can't wrap around it by listening alone.  I have to sit next to you, read it, get my bearings, read it again and take a deep breath.

A deep breath indeed.  You've made it to 15 in a blink of an eye.  It seems impossible and yet completely right at the same time.  I don't want to travel back or keep you a little girl.  For then I would miss all that you are right now.  All the stories we've shared along the way.  All the funny things. Wondrous things.  Scary things.  Quiet things.  Loud things.  Remarkable things.  And seeing you grow up has been exactly that.  Remarkable.  Something to be remarked upon.  That is why I reminisce every year on the day you were born.

Each step with you is a joy.  Each day a gift.  I'm so lucky to be your mom.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!

I love you.  More than words can say.
Love,
Mom

This girl is 12

This girl.  Today she is 12.

She has a way about her.  A way of including everyone.  A way of making me laugh with only the slightest of sideways glance.  A curiosity of the world and compassion for things bigger than big and smaller than small.  A way of letting things roll of her back.  But the ability to communicate clearly and effectively when something does bother her.

She cracks me up and knows it.  Just yesterday we were walking the dogs down the street and she was lagging behind.  I turned to say some brilliant mom thing like, "Hurry up! I haven't got all day"  only to find her dancing an exaggerated jig.  My brilliance evaporated and I was left with a deep belly laugh and so much love I busted a move right there with her.

Lately her and I have been playing a condensed soccer-like game in the afternoons.  Usually while just her and I are home. And we laugh.  And laugh.  And laugh.  

Just being with her makes me feel sparkly.  Not because she casts glitter around.  It's just her way.

Happy Birthday Licious.
I love you to the moon and back.

-Mom