She did it. She’s TEN. A decade, in a flash. We had the time of our lives on her 10-year-old trip to Disney (that’s coming at ya next week).
There’s so much to share about Clare, so let’s get to that annual birthday letter, even if it is two days late. Mea culpa.
You turned ten this week. Basically, I blinked and you turned into a highly capable, very sweet, moving toward becoming a grownup, right before my eyes.
Not gonna lie. This spring was a bit rough on both of us. You really handled your scoliosis diagnosis beautifully. That’s not an easy thing to do with grace, but you’ve done it. Once we both got over the initial “what does this really mean” to “let’s own this curvy back thing,” you have really taken charge of your diagnosis. You have no idea how much I prayed for supportive friends and teachers, understanding siblings, an easy transition and a positive attitude. You’ve embraced it all. You’ll never know quite how proud I am of you.
You are the most voracious reader in the house, by a landslide. Since June 3, you’ve read 40 books and this week completed the library’s summer reading challenge. It was your goal to do it by your birthday on June 28. I’d say mission accomplished. If we ever wonder where you are, the first place we check is your bed, to see if you and a book can be found there. Answer: almost always.
The art and sweet notes continue coming. Your heart is as big and warm as a Texas sunset. You care about all the things, which, in some cases has led to a mini-hoarding situation. We’re working on letting go of re-purposed Amazon boxes. Let’s just call that a work in progress, shall we?
You’re not a big fan of sweating or exercise. Hello, mother’s daughter. But, we are hoping the soccer or cross country teams will have a new member this year.
I love that everyone is either your friend, or someone that you want to be your friend. You’re quick to get to know someone, invite them over and strike up a conversation. You have a gift for putting other people at ease and for making them feel like the most important person in the room. You get that from you dad and I absolutely love it.
This fall, you’ll begin fifth grade and dip your toe into the middle school life a teeny bit as you change school uniforms to the “big kids” and switch classrooms. I’m pretty sure you’ll handle it well. I’m hoping I do, too.
Keep sharing your generous heart, Clare. You’ve been gifted with the talents of empathy, understanding and wisdom. May you use them the way God intends. And, may we learn to develop some patience for all your “extraneous stuff” around the house.
Love you to the moon and back, kid.