A Letter to Periwinkle at Thirteen Years Old

 Dear Periwinkle,

 

It was nearly impossible to imagine this day back when we were trying to get you to eat just a single ounce in the NICU. It seemed so far away when I was wearing you around the house so you’d just take a nap, for the love of God, even as I did laundry and cooked dinner. Thirteen seemed so abstract when you were trying to crawl but finding yourself going backward, into corners, or crying hysterically on long car rides to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

 

Thirteen seemed a little more feasible when you started walking, then running, then telling everyone what to do like you were in charge in that adorable little voice that was so loud when it wanted to be. But we had time… so much time.

 

There was moving, and discovering, and trying all sorts of new things. There was soccer and dance (how cute you were doing Irish step at age five!), then horses and gymnastics. You threw yourself into Girl Scouts and friends and baking EVERYTHING and eating none of it, and of course cello — and we’ve been so busy it all just flew by (even as those days felt so damn long).

 

So here we are. Thirteen. So much has brought you here and made you the strong-willed, passionate, confident, creative, opinionated, hilarious person you are. But there is so much that is amazing just ahead. I am so excited for you to experience what’s next, with all the drama and heartache and confusion that it entails — but also the love and incredible memories and friendships with people who truly see you and accept you just as you are.

 

Thirteen. Wow. But when you beg me to sit with you at bedtime just a little longer and you snuggle in under your covers, in the bed that seemed so huge when you were three, I still just see my little girl.

 

Happy birthday!  

 

Love,

Mom

A Letter to Indigo at Thirteen Years Old

 Dear Indigo,

 

You were just over five pounds when you were born. You screamed like a raptor in those first days. We waited until Nonna and Nonno went to find lunch to attempt to change your diaper in the hospital. We didn’t want an audience in case we were terrible at it (we figured it out). You were a champion napper but a terrible nighttime sleeper. (You still are, but you know that.)

 

You were the only baby we got to bring home right away and for that I am grateful. You broke us in fairly gently to the parenthood thing. You slept. You ate. You did other baby things. You snuggled in deep. While your sister pushed away, taking in the world,  you clung to me and examined it all very seriously and suspiciously. You never ventured too far, too fast.

 

But you were curious. Curious how the camera worked at your first school pictures at daycare. Curious how the ref’s stopwatch worked (when you were supposed to be playing soccer). Curious what all the switches did, and what animals were out in the world, and how astronauts breathe in space, and how does a submarine work, and any number of other things. I adore that you are still so curious about the world, but better yet, you’ve found a few answers and are completely excited to tell us all about them.

 

You love to learn. You are still fairly serious, and have always seemed wise beyond your years. Numerous friends, family members, and teachers have said so too. You’re comfortable in a room with adults and can hold your own, because it doesn’t occur to you not to be.

 

As you turn thirteen, stay curious. Stay confident and self-assured. Make time for fun and silliness. Hang on to those awesome friends of yours — they’re good people. You are going to be making some core memories with them in the years ahead. Be safe but occasionally a bit reckless. Know that you can call me at any hour to come pick you up and I will be there, no questions asked. And know that I’m in your corner, always, even if you can’t see it at the moment.

 

Thirteen. You are already taller than me (just a smidge, but not for long). I startle when I realize that the low voice across the house is coming from you, not Dad, when your voice used to be so high and giddy.

 

Thirteen. Yikes. But also always my lanky little raptor dude.

 

Happy birthday!

Love,

Mom