Dear Courtney Lynn,
Nine years ago today, at 4:04 pm, your tiny little 7 pounds, 10 ounces of pure attitude came into my life. I knew in that instant, my life was changed forever.
I tucked you into bed last night and told you when you got up the next morning, you would be another year older. Tears welled up in my eyes a bit as I walked out of the room, and thought about the last nine years you’ve graced me with your presence.
I remember staring intently into those big brown eyes when you were a baby and later as you were a toddler, wondering what you would be like when you got older. What types of activities would you enjoy? Would you ever start to look more like me than your dad? Would you be as laid back and softspoken as your sister?
Last night I looked at you as an eight-year old.
Today I look at you– you’re nine.
You love cheerleading, and your gymnastic skills are getting better day by day. I watch you through the glass at gymanstics class, in awe, amazement– and sheer pride– at what your little body is able to do. You are beautiful and graceful and talented, and I expect big things from you in the future. Your classmates look up to you. Maybe you don’t realize that, but you are a talented little girl.
I listen to you in your room (when you think no one is listening) and I giggle as you play school, telling your ‘students’ what to do. I listen as you repeat things I am sure came from your teacher’s mouth, whether it be math problems or history lessons. I stare at you and wonder, will you be a teacher someday?
I watch you as you begrudgingly sit on the couch and read your required 20 minutes each day. Even though you claim not to like it, I watch your face as those 20 minutes take you right smack into that book you’re reading, and you become completely lost in the storyline.
I cringe at the sound of you and your sister arguing, but I realize that you are hard-headed like me, with a temper like your dad. I know you will grow up with a ‘never back down’ attitude, your ambition and strength becoming a force to be reckoned with.
When I got mad at you the other day for spilling an entire pitcher of lemonade on the kitchen counter (and on the floor, the cupboards, everywhere), I stepped back from the situation and later realized that you were wanting so badly to be independent and not need me. I realized that this will be happening more and more as you grow up– wanting to do things for yourself, and not needing me to do it for you.
You are nine today.
You love nail polish, Disney Channel, soccer and gymnastics. You love playing school in your room, and you have no problem voicing your opinion and any and every subject that comes your way. I love that you enjoy shopping with me, and I love that you don’t like to clean your room. I love the way you still manage to find ways to climb into bed to snuggle with me when dad’s not home.
You spend hours riding your bike around the neighborhood, and beg your dad for rides on the motorcycle. You soak up any minute your teenage sister wants to spend with you, and you are desperately wanting to grow up faster. You get upset when you get left out of things you aren’t old enough for, aren’t big enough for, aren’t ready for. You cringe at the thought of growing up to be the little sister, the baby in the family.
I choose to look at it differently, Courtney. You are the one that completed our family. You are the last of the children we will have in the house. While you may be the youngest– the ‘baby’– I like to think that you are the piece of the puzzle we were missing. You complete this family, more than you will ever know. I honestly cannot imagine life without you, my precious baby girl.
My nine-year old spitfire. The one that will go clothes shopping with me one day, and be playing in dirt piles at the playground the next. The one that still wants me to tuck her in every night, and the one that is the craziest, silliest little girl on the planet. You have given me so many reasons to smile over the last nine years, and so very many reasons to feel lucky to be your Mom. God could have given you to anyone, but He gave you to me.
I can handle all the arguments over what you are going to wear, the constant reminders to brush your teeth, comb your hair, and the endless reminders about cleaning your room. I can handle anything you throw my way. Because you, my darling daughter, are one of the best things to ever happen to me.
Happy 9th Birthday, Courtney
I love you to the moon and back
–Mom
