Essay 109: She turned 9

We celebrated her 9th birthday last week.
9 years “old”. Half way to 18.

It goes by so fast.

Everyone says it because it’s true. But when you’re deep in the trenches of motherhood, and tired day in day out, it’s hard to stand back and get perspective. Then one day you realize the baby is gone; the toddler too; and your little Angel now has stinky armpits and requires deodorant.

It does go by fast and this delightful 9 year old will have disappeared by this time next year. The best I can do is take the time to notice. The best I can do is commit this snapshot in time to my memory and hope I’ll remember who she is right now.

What I admire most is her positivity.
She still doesn’t get angry.
She still doesn’t throw tantrums (never has).
She still can see the silver lining in every situation. I’ll often hear her humming and singing five minutes after being scolded or grounded. She doesn’t see the point of being miserable. (Wish I could say she learned this from me.)

She’s polite, upbeat, self confident and resilient.
She doesn’t doubt herself. (Wish I could be more like her).

She’s a social genius who can make a friend anywhere within minutes, can hold an intelligent conversation with adults and enjoys the company of all creatures, human or animal.

She loves playing outside.
Swinging on the swing she built herself from a piece of wood tied to a piece of rope hanging from our tree.
Visiting with our neighbors and their dogs.
Running around with the neighborhood kids.

She loves playing inside.
Talking to her dolls and stuffed animals (aka sisters and friends). Each one has a name and a story. Some are married. Some have kids.
Listening to her audiobooks.
Watching TV whenever she can (PBS’ Wild Kratz, and Nature Cat are current favorites).

She loves going to the beach.
She loves in-line skating.
She loves reading. She’s eager to read independently now but her favorite (and mine) is still when we cuddle up on the couch and I read to her.

She loves cooking. She’s getting more independent feeding herself (and sometimes feeding us too). She rocks a good grilled cheese, and can whip up a tasty omelette. She slices and dices with her very own kitchen knife.

She’s getting better at violin and still enjoys playing it.
She’s getting better at jiu-jitsu and has a blast training.
She’s passionate about sewing and art class (especially clay art).
She enjoys creative writing and won first place in a poetry contest last year. (See her poem entry below)
Math is her favorite subject in (home) school.

She still has more energy than any other kid I know. Most days, she’s up by 7 am and asleep at 8.30 pm only because we insist. (She might have a seemingly endless amount of energy but I certainly don’t). Thankfully, bedtime has become much more peaceful in the past few months.

She has a great sense of humor-something we noticed when she was a wee baby- and for the most part she’s a sweetheart but she also knows people get easily smitten with her and she has learned the fine art of manipulation in order to get what she wants. (We’re working on curbing this.)
She’s helpful and fairly compliant; most days, the yard is raked, the dishes put away. And when I ask, the laundry gets folded and the house gets swept. Albeit rarely after the first time I ask and, more often than I’d like, with a good dose of whining. And boy is she easily distracted!

You see, she’s not perfect.

We’re blessed all the same.
I don’t always say that. I don’t always see that.
Usually, all I see is the mess in the bedroom and I forget to be thankful for the little person who made it.
Usually, I focus on what she does wrong.

But not today. Today, I see all that she does right.

Today I see she IS just right. Simply because she’s her!