Friday, October 1, 2010

Eleven

 I'm just not positive how on earth you could be turning 11 today.  11. wow.
 11 very short years ago right now you were in my belly.  I was still a little convinced that you were a boy- even though 3 ultrasounds said girl.  I brought pink to the hospital, but I had some 'neutral' in the drawers at home just in case.  I must say- I'm glad you were a girl.  I must also say you were easier to care for while in my belly.
 Apparently by 11 you stop tearing your wrapping paper and you open your gifts more civilized.  Or perhaps it's because it was 6:30 in the morning and you are still asleep.  But since you begged, we let you open JUST ONE gift this morning.
 Trust me when I say these weren't our idea.
 They were yours.  You wanted these sandal things with knee high socks- just like all the other kids.  You have a new confidence in who you are.
 You wear adult size clothes.  And shoes.  You play the saxaphone.  And the piano.  You have a great sense of humor- you make me honestly laugh with your wit.  You can be a bit lazy and a little (lot) sloppy.  We're working on that.  You have started doing your hair.  You want to wear mascara.  The answer is still no.  I still find your shoes all over the yard.  And every time I roll my eyes.  You have started rolling your eyes too.
 The ring on your finger was mine as a little girl.  You are becoming a young woman. You had on so much loves baby soft this morning that I almost pinched my nose shut.  You lost another tooth this week.  And got first chair in band. You are not happy about participating in household chores.  But neither am I.  Get over it.
 I prayed for you for so long.  I remember collapsing on the floor and bursting into laughter the minute I found out that I was pregnant.  It was sincere happiness.  You push me beyond my normal comfort zone.  I am learning how to be your mom.  You are an excellent teacher.  I met the Lord because of you.  I knew Him, more knew of Him, before you came into my life.  But upon becoming your mother, I began to crave Him like never before.  I could never thank you enough for that gift.  I pray that you find that thirst in your life.
You are tall.  You are beautiful.  Your hair is a gorgeous color. You will never have to spend money having it colored or highlighted- you're welcome. You tend to talk really loud.  You have an excitement in your voice when you tell me a story. You are a special young woman. Who is really just a whittle baby.  At least my whittle baby.

Tonight- at 6pm- 8 young women with blossoming hormones will decend upon our home with sleeping bags, pillows, giggles, and laughter.  I am actually afraid.  But only a little. I can only be thankful that the other two couldn't make it.  9 has got to be easier than 11- right.

1 comment:

Ronda said...

Happy birthday, Miss Ally. And good luck with that sleepover!