Dear Adalyn_8

 October 8, 2020

 

Dear Adalyn,

 

If you could spend the rest of 2020 listening to music, you would, bobbing your head and lip syncing in circles around the living room, leaping from chairs, and nailing the small sassy choreographed moments with total satisfaction.

 

With three loose teeth, but none quite letting go, your high-top flowered sneaks, and Hamilton trivia spewing at every turn, you are eight years old. 8. It seems so much older than 7, though I’m pretty sure I say that every year. We can tell that you’re crossing over, into that next phase of “kid,” when you’re just not little anymore. It gives me all the mama feels.

 

This year has been a bit of a rollercoaster. You had awesome Mrs. Thompson in first grade, where we had our Monday’s together and you loved learning about Arthur Ash and being in plays. You ran with Kevon, Isaac and Levi at recesses, claiming you weren’t sure if they were too wild, but loving it anyway. Then covid hit in March. For months, it was just us; just our little core family, and despite it being scary and hard times, your dad and I loved getting so much time to find our own version of quarantine, our own adventures, our own routines. In June, we escaped to our first family vacation at Emerald Isle and watched you three play in the sand and waves every minute you could; it was The Best. As months went by, you said you didn’t like the virus because you missed your friends, but you loved seeing Daddy every day as he worked in the basement. Now life is picking back up steam, and you’ve settled into the groove of our little co-op. You faithfully plug away at your virtual school, always picking Movement, Art and Music first, taking goofy pictures to check in. But you love being with your people: playing games, dressing up, learning math, and playing outside for hours on end with our homeschool crew. This year has been a doozie for us as parents, but kiddo, you have rolled with it, as you always do, pointing out those silver linings you can always spot. I hope you carry that springy adaptation ability through all of life.

 

Today….You are so pumped that today is your golden birthday. 8 on the 8^th.

 

You only change clothes a couple times a day now, unless you’re really excited and the occasion calls for 18 rotating outfits.  You love picking out everyone’s clothes and laying them out on the floor for full effect, and want to be a ‘broadway sewer’ when you grow up.  You regularly gallop around the yard, jump into obstacle courses, and have finally gotten confident on a bike, racing your new one tonight around the cul de sac in endless circles with a huge smile on your face. You are thoughtful, and have moments of deep and beautiful thoughts.  You constantly ask to cook by yourself, and beg to be the one who helps Bryce get ready in the mornings. You and Bria are straight-up sisters, deep into your own made up games, regularly arguing about something, and always looking out for the other. You’ve beat me and Daddy in the neighborhood challenge, and you loved Parks and Rec basketball this winter. You were so disappointed that we couldn’t do Kum Ba Yah this summer, and are requesting theater camp when ‘the virus’ goes away. You have fallen in love with musicals even more, playing The Greatest Show nonstop, saving up your allowance for the soundtrack, and then now a clinical obsession with Hamilton. You want to learn about every character, every actor, every behind the scenes, every epic book about Lin-Manuel Miranda, every word to the songs constantly bopping through our minds. Work!

 

You love leading, and get this hilarious “in-charge” voice when you’re ready to direct. You love trying to dole out punishments if you know Bria is in trouble until we remind you that you aren’t the parent. You have this persistence of persuasion, like when you tell me it’s going to be a fancy dinner night and you’re going to pick out my clothes….you can tell when I’m going to say “nah,” and quickly interject with “Oh but don’t worry Mama, it’s fancy, but it’s all comfy.” You know your audience.

 

Quiet but confident. Shy but loyal. Serious to some, goofy with many. Hesitant, but brave.

 

I tell you this every day, but baby girl, I am so proud of you. I love being your mom. I love watching you grow. I love watching you unfold, year after year, into this amazing sparkling soul. And every night on October 8^th, I will remember holding the little ball of newborn Adalyn Marlena, 6 pounds 4 ounces, a head of dark hair and the cutest little wizard hands, your dad and I staring wondrously at this sweet baby we made. The baby girl that made me a mom.

 

Happy Golden Birthday, Sparkle. I love you so much.

 

Mama