The Girl Who Wouldn’t Stop Growing
My Dearest, Sweetest Adeline,
You are on your way to being 9, which startles me, because how in the world have 9 years already gone by? And with such sadness, I realize that in another 9 years – that will race by just like the first 9 – you will be 18 and moving on to complete independence. I know that’s the way it’s suppose to be. That that’s the goal, but it will be so hard to let you go, because I love you and I really like you.
As you get older, I feel like I can see you better. I can see the you that is you and always has been and always will be. A person who glides through feelings of calm, introspectiveness and uncertainty and then suddenly warps into an almost maniacal amount of bliss, delight and goofiness. You have always lived in these two worlds, even in utero, when an hour would go by with little movement from you, followed by 20 minutes of nonstop kicking, bumping and rolling.
You are complete sweetness, a good friend and kind person. Your heart is tender, bursting with love for your family and seeking approval. I hope when it hurts, that you will seek solace in me. That I am a safe person to talk to. And if not me, there are loads of family members who will eagerly listen to and help you.
You have my favorite kind of humor – the kind that comes with cleverness and good timing. I love to see this expression of yourself and how comfortable you are in it – at least when you’re home with us. Out in a new place or with new people, you turn into an observer – watching and note-taking before interacting. You have done this for as long as I can remember.
I love to hear you stand up for yourself, telling friends “no” when you don’t want to do something. It’s a wonderful thing – saying “no” when that’s what you feel. I think I see a quiet confidence growing in you, and I hope it grows strong enough to withstand the people and things that will claw at it over the years. I hope you will find your own voice, and follow it always, or at least try your hardest to hear what it has to say and learn to find your intuition.
And you are beautiful – your hazel eyes lean more toward green, your nose has the slightest upturn and your mouth is home to the fuller lips I’ve always coveted and a slew of somewhat-crooked adult teeth you’ll one day grow into.
I see a light and energy in you that I hope you’ll nurture and protect, though I think you’re scarcely aware of its specialness yet.
I think you have a deeper emotional intelligence than I know, as I suspect you’ve been watching and digesting and filing away many of your life’s events without saying a single word about them yet. I look forward to the conversations we will have when you feel ready to share and express them.
You talk in your sleep every. single. night. Often making silly voices and sounds like you’re goofing around with friends or us in your dreams. Sometimes you’re in the middle of a conversation over that day’s occurrences, other times you’re screaming or crying from a nightmare. Your noises are our evening soundtrack, and always have been.
You have a brother, who you sometimes love and sometimes hate. Mostly you are very good to him, but occasionally trick him, tease him or rage at him. You are usually the inventor of the games you play, leading him through rounds of House, Restaurant, School or We’re Both Cats. I hope a deep, unbreakable friendship is forming between you two. That you will be allies and supporters to each other, because a lifelong knowledge of each other + related life experiences + love and friendship = an amazing person to have in your life. I hope you will always see the value in each other and work at maintaining your relationship.
My entire body is soaked in love, pride and awe for you – every day and in the ordinary and extraordinary moments. You do not need to earn my love or do anything special to receive it. It is already and always there for you. Always, always, always.
I came home from a trip to Seattle a few days ago, and my heart melted when I saw your happiness at my return. The big smile, the excitement, the relief, you saying you felt “amazing” and that you missed me so much. One day you may be shocked that you felt that way about me, but I will always remember it. Remember it and be grateful for how much you love, need and want me right now. How you still hold my hand, ask to snuggle on the couch and let me scoop you into my arms (your only 48 lbs, and I love that I can still pick you up!).
The rate at which you are rocketing through life brings tears and joy. So quickly are you heading toward that place where you start yearning for and needing distance from me. That’s the way it’s meant to be, but that doesn’t make it any easier to start letting you go.
I love you, I love you, I love you, my sweet, sweet baby girl.
Love,
Mama