Eight

Dear Ione,

Happy birthday! Today is your special day. I write this particular letter with one goal in mind.  I want to keep it short. Or at least shorter than last year’s letter. Have you read that thing lately? Well, I have and it’s really long.

So in the spirit of brevity I will not spend too many words telling you about the violent, vomit-spewing and obscenity-screaming experience that was your birth. Your dad has a hard time controlling himself but he’s working on it.

Brand New

Now he's a brother

It does not feel like a full 365 days since your last birthday. It feels more like 273. I did not take as many photos this year so it may be that I’m just missing 92 days worth of pictures which also probably means those days never happened and Einstein was right about special relativity and I’m not at all crazy. Not a bit.

Instead of going chronologically through your year trying to find those lost days I think I will just hit on some highlights in the order they come to me, very stream-of-consciousness like.

S-p-e-l-l-i-n-g

You are kind of God’s gift to spelling. Ms. Kammerman, your second grade teacher, has been giving your personalized spelling tests all year because you are just that good. Her biggest challenge? Finding words you can’t spell. I have stopped asking you how you did on your spelling tests because a long time ago you stopped answering the question, “100%!” and now you just give me this look that says something like, “I presume that by being asked this question you entertain the possibility that I actually might have not spelled a word correctly and since we both know this is not possible, I’m just going to ignore  you and go read the dictionary.”

I randomly kept one of your tests from the beginning of the year. The words were as follows; styrofoam, construction, illustrate, orchestra, throughout, Connecticut, Indonesia, ravioli.

Thank goodness for spellcheck or I might have embarrassed myself on that part of the post. The only bummer is that your school does not participate in spelling bees. They say the competition is too stressful. However, they do run a Geography Bee and a Math Olympiad.  I understand. Spelling is way more stressful than math and far more glamorous. Have you seen the outfits those kids get to wear at the Scripps National Bee? Very Hollywood!

Agents

I have been reluctant to write about Agents for fear that I might somehow jinx it. Agents is a pretend world that you made up and have been playing for years now–since Kindergarten, I think. The crazy thing is how elaborate it is and how you have managed to bring almost all your friends into this world with you and how seamlessly you move from Agents to real life and back again. You have such an elaborate back story in agents; age, family history, job, etc that I can’t begin to keep up. I think that in Agents you are actually a 23-year-old orphan and Noelle is your 19-year-old sister and you run an animal shelter and are also spys and there are some bad aliens to boot. One day a few months ago I came in from work and you were in tears. Dustin (a boy in your class) HAD STOLEN THE SPECIAL CODE THAT CAN ERASE THE COMPUTER SYSTEM IN AGENTS AND HE WAS THREATENING TO DESTROY AGENTS FOREVER!!! You were, to put it mildly, freaking out.Now that I look back this was one of my better parenting moments. On the spot I decided to play along. I told you that I was also an Agent who happened to be deep undercover and I possessed the override code to the computer system–the only code that could foil Dustin’s evil plot. I said If you were willing to maintain my secret identity then I could share the code with you. But only if you could keep it a secret. This stopped the tears immediately. For the next while you and I went back and forth about what we could do to prevent the evil Dustin from destroying Agents forever. In the end, you and your friends (Kate and Noelle) came up with your own solution. And you kept my identify a secret. Nice work, agent.

One other thing to note: in Agents, Momo is still alive. Yesterday you informed me that you were going to get Momo a birthday present this year. I asked you what you were giving him and  you told me that you couldn’t tell me because Momo might hear because (your exact words), “Momo is everywhere.”

BFF

You have always been a girl who has strong emotional attachment to family, friends and animals. This year you stepped it up a notch with you best buddy, Noelle. I don’t know what the secret is between you two. Maybe it’s commonality; you both are youngest kids in your families, love horses and American Girl dolls, play Agents, have blond hair and blue eyes, are goofy as all get-out. Maybe it’s chemistry. Maybe it’s right place, right time. Maybe it’s all those. I don’t know but you two are joined at the hip. You have already informed me that you will always be friends with Noelle, and when you grow up you will go to college together and be roommates and that you fully believe that someday you will be sisters (you actually are sisters in Agents). I guess you must be scheming some way to get your brother to marry Noelle. Just don’t mention that to him. He’s far too  young to understand the benefit of having a sister with cute friends. Just give it a few ten years.

BFF

I would be remiss in writing about your capacity for friendships if I didn’t also write about Kate. She’s your other best friend, and the girl who turns the two of you into a lovely and ultra-giggly threesome. I have never seen three little girls get along so well together. Usually three kids playing ends in one kid getting left out. But not with you, Kate and Noelle. For birthdays you each pick the other two for whatever you want to do–typically a sleepover. You never seem to tire of each other, or fight, or get bored. It’s kinda of amazing. It’s a testament to you, my dear, that you would choose such wonderful girls to be your best friends.

Three Amigos

Gizmo

After Momo died we all had a hard time. But it wasn’t long before we welcomed a new dog into our family, Gizmo. You, of course, still love Momo. He will probably be your most special pet. But you love Giz too. He is so sweet and cuddly and will comply with almost anything if he gets to be with you. He’s so easy-going you can walk him yourself with no trouble. He’s pretty much the perfect dog for you.

Love at First Sight

Craft-tastic

Before having children I was only worried about two things; having a picky eater and having a kid that loved crafts. I got one of each. You know which one you are. The Creation Station (the nook we use for art stuff) has become your domain. It contains every kind of supply imaginable; from pipe cleaners to rubber stamps and everything in between. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t come home to some new creation of  yours. Recently, you sculpted woodland animal scenes out of clay and displayed them artfully all over the furniture in my bedroom. At Christmas, you made felt-covered trees and houses for a winter scene. A week ago you made your own giant water-color fruit puppets (don’t ask me to explain that one). You have made jewelry and paper sculpture. For Christmas you made me a paper 3-d replica of an old-school boom box, complete with a lid that opens to reveal the CD inside (which  you thoughtfully labelled “The Smiths”). Genius, really. You are always working on something. Hence, the creation station has turned into a bit of a disaster. I can’t keep track of which piles are works-in-progress and which are trash or for that matter which “trash” piles are really valuable supplies that you plan to turn into something wonderful. So I tend to avoid that part of the house. I don’t want my organizational compulsions to stifle you. Sigh. They say chaos breeds creativity and in your case that seems to be true.

Wrap Up

Writing these letters is always an interesting process. I never know where I’m going with them until I get there. This year the thing that jumps out to me more than anything is how many qualities you have in common with your Aunt Bobee (my sister, Genesis). Your Aunt can spell like a computer, loves to read, has always had a small, tight-knit group of dear friends, and inherited all of our mom’s crafting skills and them some (fyi–I got none). Of course, when I watch you I really see a kaleidoscope of qualities; gifting, skills, preferences, personality, dna, interests, fears and loves. They all turn together to reflect something so amazing and beautiful and complex and interesting. And that something is you.

All my love and admiration,

Mommy

*we did watch the finals together this year which was pretty cool.