Happy 12th Birthday Ayden!

To my wonderful, goofy, clever, yet infuriating son, Ayden,

Happy 12^th Birthday!

 

Where has the time gone? It seems like just yesterday when we were driving home from the hospital, in what felt like the longest ride ever because your daddy was so nervous with precious cargo in the back.

Now, we’re nearly looking at each other eye-to-eye. We don’t always see eye-to-eye, but that’s just fine. You are no longer anyone’s mini-me, you are decidedly your own person: smart, funny, sarcastic, and often ridiculous. You are kind and sensitive, almost to a fault as you wear your heart on your sleeve.

You are driven and focused, and have a strong will to achieve that even you can’t really fight against. I love that about you, too. When I ask “is that your best effort” on a paper, I know I’ll get an honest answer if it’s not. (Thank you, Mrs. McKinney, for helping instill this at a very young age).  You are loyal and dedicated, and easily frustrated when others aren’t giving their 100%. It’s a hard row to hoe, but learning to push on when others don’t AND to not shoulder all the blame when things fall apart because of their failings will serve you well.

Moving you in the middle of fourth grade was a big deal, I know, and the transition wasn’t an easy one. Two years later, I see a very different kid: one who is finding his own place, his own crowd (and, I think, the right one for you), and rebuilding his confidence. I couldn’t be prouder of how you’ve handled the change and tackled the problems it created.

Some days, you seem wise beyond your years and so much more mature than a twelve-year-old should be. The next minute, you struggle to open a Gatorade bottle or share a totally sixth grade level joke (that is funny only to you) and, once again, all is right with the world.

Just yesterday, you were my toddler, afraid to walk on the grass. Today, I’m scrubbing grass stains out of your pants, because of all the time spent practicing jumping hills on your bike in the yard…..which you just learned to ride yesterday, right?

Today, you talk sports, like it’s your business. How you know every player in every league, I’ll likely never know and if you could put that attention to detail into remembering to put away your clothes in a manner that still resembles folded, I’d be a happy mommy.

I remember how my heart broke when you stopped giving hugs, and how you took my breath away when you starting giving them again. It’s hard to let go, to let you walk your own path and make your own mistakes because in so many ways, you’re still my baby. And I know, my first-born, that you’re not always ready to walk some walks on your own (by the way we shove you out the door), but know that we do it with love.

I can see the amazing person you are becoming, and I’m more than a little awed by it.

I love you more than words can say. I’d say even more than that, if I knew it didn’t embarrass you to death.

Happy birthday, big guy. I think twelve is going to be an amazing year for you!

 

Love, Mommy

My Little Love Bugs!

Happy Valentine's Day!!

Rae and Her Max!

A Lot of Snow.....NOT!

 The weatherman calling for 2-5+ inches amounted for excited kids.  The disappointed kids came when we received nothing but ice and a few flurries.  They did get to go out and try to catch snowflakes on their tongues and bust some icy puddles with their boots.  The sled run that they insisted I do turned out to be pointless, but at least we are prepared for next time.  See you soon SNOW! (well, as long as you don't get forecast by the weather)

Day by Day

I did swipe this, but it pretty much sums up my feelings so I thought I would share.

"Dear kids,

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I see that you’ve grown over night. Your face is more defined, your eyes look older. A part of me is excited and in awe; I know you have so much ahead of you. Another part is scared because time is racing and I can’t slow it down. I’m afraid that I haven’t always been awake and noticing, and that somehow I have slept through the magic of your growing. I wonder, have I enjoyed you enough? Have I given you what you needed? Is your heart still whole? Is your spirit unbroken?

I’m not always good at this. I’m not always as good as I want to be at being your mom. I want to be great; and sometimes I am, but sometimes I’m not.

Sometimes I get it, and sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I do it right, and sometimes I completely miss it.

Everyday I make mistakes.

Sometimes I snap when I should be sensitive. Sometimes I lecture and give chores when what you needed was a hug. Sometimes I completely and utterly miss it. I know that I do. I mistake your pain for complaining or your sad heart for a bad attitude. I watch myself miss it, and later I grieve that I didn’t respond differently.

I miss it when I am tired, and you get my leftovers at the end of a long day. I wish that you didn’t, but sometimes you do.

I miss it when I am scared. I am scared of big things and little things. I really thought adults had it all figured out, but I am one now, and it turns out we don’t. Sometimes fear snatches my heart and I can’t seem to think of anything else. I forget to relax and to enjoy you. I forget to smile and to laugh. I’m working on that.

I miss it when I am lost. I’m struggling with my own demons and it has nothing to do with you. Sometimes it’s anxiety or it’s depression, but it’s never, ever your fault. I will keep striving for wholeness so that when you reach those obstacles I can help you do the same.

I know that it is easy to hang on to the negative things and forget all the positive, but I want to set the record straight. When I look at you I am SO. PROUD. When I look at you I see good. I see someone who is mighty. I wonder how I have been trusted with such a treasure. Your heart is pure and soft. You are gentle and kind, you are vivacious and fierce.

I am forever your biggest cheerleader and your greatest fan.

Please keep helping me to see you and to know you. Keep telling me when I hurt your feelings. Keep sharing with me your fears and your insecurities and we will figure it out together.

I’m okay with making mistakes, but I’m never okay with losing your heart. Your heart is what matters to me.

I hope that my weakness teaches you something. I hope that when you come upon your own brokenness, tiredness, fear, and confusion, that you will be okay with it. I pray that your imperfections won’t scare you as they have me. I pray that you won’t run from them, but that you’ll wrestle with them and you will keep showing up, saying sorry, and trying again.

We don’t always get it right and that’s okay.

We are all professional mistake makers, and you will make lots and lots of mistakes. You will make countless amounts of mistakes, just like I have, but not one could darken the light I see when I look at you. You are my treasure, you are my reason.

Even though life is racing by, sometimes we have a moment. Sometimes we can reach out, grab time, and hold it. The world stops, all is quiet, and we really see each other. In this moment when I glimpse the person you are and who you’re becoming, all I can think is…

Wow.

On this morning, where it seems you’ve grown overnight, I want to tell you that you are wonderful. You amaze me everyday – and as I watch you, you inspire me. You inspire me to pull out the greatness that’s inside me. In this family we will make mistakes, but we will keep doing it together and we will keep holding each other other tight.

It turns out I’m never, ever, going to be perfect, but I am always and forever yours, and I’m always and forever on your team. That I can promise you.

I love you.

Love,

Mama"

Christmas and Beyond!