On Saturday you turned 14. My life with you flashes through my mind on your birthdays.
I remember how you used to twirl in the middle of the room with the most serious look on your face. I remember how hard it was for you to be little- you wanted to be the best at everything, the fastest , the smartest. I remember your epic tantrums and ferocious temper and how much being your mom has taught me.
I remember how you looked like a cross between Harvey Keitel and Curious George the day you were born but I knew you would be beautiful. And you are.
I forget you are still young- a mistake that is easy when you are composed and graceful like a 30 year old, tall and beautiful like a woman and smart and insightful like an old soul.
You still wonder out loud on all matter of things. You are afraid of the dark, the basement at night and heights. You sleep every night on a green bunny you have had since you were two and a white bunny and a baby rattle. When I need to wash them – I can’t tell you because you are sure they are real and might not like life in a washing machine. You wrote to the tooth fairy in a hidden diary beside your bed for years- asking about how she can fly, how big are you? what do you do with the teeth you take? How did you get your magic powers? You know believing takes a dedication and I have heard you convince others that we must always believe.
I need to remember to tuck you in at night, to hug you and comfort you when you are scared. Just because you are taller than me does not mean you aren’t still little in ways not as obvious anymore.
We play a game all the time where I say with a serious face some version of “I overheard a group of women talking the other day.”
At this point I have your attention-
” And they were so distraught, so upset, inconsolable in fact, that they can’t have a daughter like you. They are so ravaged with jealousy, so destroyed by envy that they are literally falling apart as I walk by them.” At this point we are both laughing -but it gives me a creative opportunity to tell you –
I am so thrilled I get to be your mom.
Nancy says
thank you Heather!We are lucky!
Nancy says
erin- you likely know so much already as a teacher and stepmom! probably an expert, you!
Nancy says
it stands still some afternoons when they are two and four and then never again, don’t you find?
Beth says
Lovely…my first born is 15 this week….firmly straddling the line between woman and girl. Where does the time go?
Erin Little says
Another beautiful post about you daughter(s). Wow. You are both lucky Nancy. As I read I thought that my girls are in that fantasy world stage now and it’s such a shame we outgrow it, in a way, it’s so wonderful. I will look to you to see how to continue to relate to my daughters as they grow up. Sniff, sniff.
Happy Birthday and Happy Birthing day.
Nancy says
this is why we write, right Toby?
Toby Earp says
I know for a fact that there are daughters whose Moms didn’t tell them what you told yours, and so well. But your telling of it told them too, and then they knew too it was for them.
Nancy says
thanks Jen- and yours are likely to be taller soon too- Josh is getting there. I know you love all ages of babies as I do- so it is not sad- just wonderful and different!
Heather says
Beautiful post Nancy. I bet she feels just as lucky.
Jen says
LOVE! It is crazy that your “baby” is taller than you. I know that day is coming fast for me and my son. I enjoyed reading all of the unique and wonderful things you love about your daughter. They are such contradictions through these crazy tween/teen years. Part child but more and more an adult. No matter how old they will always be our babies!
Happy Birthday!
Nancy says
xoxoxo
Jennie says
love this! heart! Happy Birthday to one of the best big little girls I’ve ever met.