5.07.2024

Blythe is TWELVE


Blythe, 

There are very few times in this life I am left without words, but as I sit here and think about you turning twelve, and the beautiful life we have been able to share together thus far... it is hard to quite gather up my thoughts. It seems just yesterday you were writing gibberish letters and stapling them together, so proud to read me your "books." Now you voraciously devour real books, curled up in all corners of our home and yard. I can also still conjure up a tiny Blythe, pots and pans and tubs gathered in our front yard between two oak trees, performing the most beautiful drum solo I had ever heard. Now you are performing in a packed gymnasium drum solos meant for high school students. When we brought Becks home from the hospital I can still picture you, two years old, perched beside her "reading" her books, teaching her songs, and gently stroking her cheeks. Now you are the big sister to three siblings, capable and kind, creatively coming up with games and adventures for all. 

This year you had some firsts. You've been hunting with Papa since you were one, even though when you were one you were just "hunting" in the living room. But the quotations marks have dropped and it has become real. Last spring Papa took you out several times during youth turkey season. One evening I was trying to check in to see when you'd be home but wasn't hearing anything back. Then I got the phone call that you'd gotten a big turkey. A 22 pound bird with a 10 inch beard and 1 inch spurs! It was a monster. It was such a fun experience, and I really wasn't sure if Papa's heart was going to be able to handle it-- he was so unbelievable proud. I was happy you got to share that experience with him, and that our little toddler that used to "flop like a turkey" when "hunting" in the living room grew into a fun big kid that takes on the challenge and adventure of lots of new experiences. 


Another first for your was attending your first real concert. You asked if we could get tickets to a Phil Wickham concert, and wanted your dad to go with you. You traveled together to Oklahoma and had the best time. It was another "from little girl to big kid" moment for us, as you your favorite song around age three was "This is Amazing Grace" by Phil Wickham. You used to ask your dad to sing it to you at bedtime and you'd join in. When we knew the church worship team was going to be singing it on a Sunday morning we would keep you out of nursery so you could worship with us. And worship you did, your little pigtailed head thrown back, singing loudly. So it only made sense that you'd want your first concert to be worshipping with Phil Wickham and your dad. 

Another fun first was playing Jr. High Basketball. At our school, 6th grade is still considered elementary. However, due to lower numbers, they opened up basketball to 6th grade. It was the first big season you've had. We watched you grow so much as a player-- getting better at dribbling, and getting open. Your shot just got prettier and prettier, and I won't lie, you're entire cheering section got a little misty-eyed when you made your first shot- a pretty little jump shot from the left wing. However, more importantly, we watched you grow as a person. Great grandpa AJ made it to several games, and Great Grandma Ann even showed up for your last home game. She thought it was so wonderful to see you play. One of your coaches (you had great coaches that really encouraged you) told me she wished she had a team of Blythes, and it wasn't because you were a lights-out shooter, or a defensive phenom: it was because you listened, practiced hard, and would try whatever they asked you to do. She told me you had the best work ethic. And here is the deal, Blythe: if you never make another shot ever in your life, how you hard you work, the type of teammate you are, and how you listen and try to improve in whatever you're doing is what will be the most important. 


The last "first" thing I want to remember this year has been your drumming. Holy moly, Blythe Kathleen. You have a gift. We've always known you were musical (I think you came out of the womb humming a tune!), and you've done well with piano, but it was like everything for the last 12 years was just combining inside you so that it could burst our once you picked up your drumsticks. Your band teacher does something neat with first-time band students and has them work to earn different "belts," just like in karate. The goal is to eventually earn a black belt. There were 7 different colors you had to earn first by becoming competent at different skills and then pieces of music, which you blazed through. By your first concert in December, I knew you'd earned your black belt and that you were going to get to perform the song you'd played to earn it. What I didn't fully understand until we were at your performance was that you'd be the only soloist that evening for all of 6-12 grades, and that you were not only the only one who had earned your black belt (playing a high school level snare solo), but that you had earned it within 8 weeks of band starting! Your teacher said he'd only had one other student earn their black belt their 6th grade year, and she had done it quickly...in 6 months! And that is why he wanted to showcase you at the concert. Your musical ability is waaaaaay beyond me, but in that moment even I could tell how incredible you are. I'm so excited to see where this musical journey takes you, but no matter what I hope you always, always find as much joy in it as you do right now. You LIGHT UP when you get to play drums, or talk about drums, or listen to drums. What a gift you have. 

You've done so many fun things this year: another (longer) triathlon, a halloween as an 80s skater with your friend, several attempts at our own British bake-off (chocolate chip cookies and bread), a million gazillion books read, creeks explored, mountains hiked, lakes kayaked, letters written, driveway shots taken, forts built, and many, many mornings slept in. You also were so excited for Nini to make you a black dress, and insisted we couldn't take your birthday pictures until it was complete. (and you requested taking your pictures with Diana's horses, so they feature her beautiful horse, Halo). 

I'll never forget reading through the Hunger Games book series "with" you this year. For your birthday you actually said you wanted to do a sleepover in my bed and watch the first movie together. And so we did. We grabbed snacks and popcorn and I told you when to close your eyes (the movies are a little intense), and we laughed and chatted and I hope you understand that this is the greatest gift you continually give me: your company. 

You've always been a ray of light. I know a lot of people probably say this about their kids, but it has been unequivocally true of you. I'm currently doing a study on 1 John and it talks often about this idea: about how we walk and move and interact on this earth is to directly reflect the light of The Light of the World- Jesus. And you do. And watching you tiptoe to the edge of become a teenage girl-woman this year, I am praying it continues to remain evident, continues to bring Light into our home, into your friends' lives, and into all the spaces you encounter. 


You're so easy to talk to, so fun to be with, a fantastic friend, and it continues to be a gift to be your parents. There is maybe more sighing and huffing and frustration these days, but you continue to give us so much grace as we figure out parenting with you as our first. Thanks for allowing us to mess up and keep trying, as all of us keep looking to Jesus through it all. 

And like I have ended every birthday letter: We hope you understand the why behind our no-s. We hope you feel safe in the boundaries we set. We hope you feel freedom in the wide open places we leave for you. We hope you see God in our actions and in our words. We hope when you leave our little home for good and go out on your own that you'll look back on this simple little life we had together-- chaos and mistakes and messes and all-- and see that it was grace that held us together; that you see that it was God's daily bread that provided it all.

Blythe Kathleen, happy TWELFTH birthday! We will always come for you, and there is nothing you could ever do that could make us stop loving you.