Happy Birthday, Eliza!

October 7th, 2011

Hello, my love.

Each year, I write another letter to you, and I am always sorely tempted to go back and read the last letter. But I resist. I want each letter to be based upon what is happening in our lives - your’s and mine - right this moment and not about all of the prior years. Now, after I finish, sure, I’ll go read. Maybe when you’re older and read all of these, you’ll read them all at once, over and again, too. Maybe not. But you’re a lot like me, so I suspect you will read them many, many times.

That brings up an interesting question. You’re reading quite well now. I wonder when I should begin giving you these letters to read. I suppose I’d just always imagined giving them to you when you’re older. I think I’ll save that as a question for another day.

You are reading well, and you seem to enjoy it, but you enjoy all of school. Some days, I crawl into bed with you in the mornings and ask if you’d like to play hookey, just stay home and play instead of going to school. I only ask because I know, without a doubt, that your answer will be, as your roll your eyes at me, “no, mama, I have to go to school and learn.”I never, ever ask Griff if he wants to play hookey. He wouldn’t answer the same way you do.

Your teacher this year says you’re really, really good at math. Clearly, your daddy’s genes run deep in you. She was telling us at our conference last week that you like to go to the board and show her different ways of answering the problems. I’m quite impressed with you.

Everyone talks about how sweet you are, how kind and generous. You have the gentlest spirit about you. You always want to help and do things for those around you. Now, everyone also talks about how quiet you are. On that, I’m pretty sure you’ve got folks snowed. But whatev. (’Whatev.’ You taught me that word. Told me the ‘er’ wasn’t necessary.)

You still think Griff’s the best thing ever, but you’ve also discovered that, at 13, he’s more than a little annoying. You’ve got plans for what we’re going to do for his room when he goes to college. One day, it’s going to be a spa bathroom. The next, a craft room. The next, knock out the wall between the two rooms and make a giant room for yourself. As long as you share with me, I’m ok with it. I love that you still say you’re going to live close by me forever. I’d love for you to live close by me forever. (Griff, too, but he’s against that idea these days. Let’s move to the beach somewhere & make him jealous he made a bad choice. Whatcha say?)

You’re clever and funny, and you make us laugh. You think that any event is reason to get dressed up ‘fancy.’ And you think we should all join you in the fancy. You think your daddy is the best man ever (and I happen to agree). You’re a very girlie girl, but you very much don’t want anyone to tell you that you can’t do something, and I respect that.

You’ve discovered in the last year that you enjoy shopping, and you’ve become my best shopping buddy. You haven’t opened your presents yet, so you don’t know it, but you’re getting new clothes and gift cards as presents, and I can hardly wait to go shopping with you. You get so excited. Your Aunt Stacy and I took you and Hannah to the spa a few weeks ago as an early present, and you were so sweet and thankful. I appreciate that you make a point of being appreciative (one of your spelling words this week).

So here you are… eight. And I’ve said it before, and I hope you never get tired of hearing me say it because I’ll say it forever. For a lot of years, there were three of us. And we had no idea that our family was lacking. But God knew that our family needed an Eliza. And I thank God every day for you because He knew best, and you bless us every day in countless ways.

I love you Eliza Lillie.

Mama