Nan is EIGHT

 

Dear Nan, 

Your GOLDEN birthday is upon us and it seems appropriate as you are the most golden of all children right now—you sparkle and shine wherever you go.  You are light and joy, humor and heart. 

 

You’ve grown a lot this year, not just in inches, but in maturity as well. It’s always a mixed bag for parents, to see their kids slowly but surely marching away from being a little kid and moving towards the horizon of the big kid years more steadily and surely. There is a certain sadness that comes for us in watching your childish ways recede—we will miss the pudgy cheeks and tea parties and puddle-stomping. But there is so much joy that comes from seeing you step with a little more confidence and independence. However, one of the best parts about watching you grow older, Nan, is that you are retaining all the very best parts of little-kidness—you are still silly and curious in all the very best ways. I hope even when you’re thirty I can still say that is true of you. 

 

This year you’ve tried some new things and found some new hobbies. In the fall you did your very first triathlon and boy did you push yourself. You are a competitor at heart, but you were also a little nervous about trying something new and in a big crowd. But when the horn sounded you splashed right into the water and never looked back. You’ve always been a strong swimmer, and you completed the biking portion on a bike with no gears! You ran the entire mile at the end too and I was so impressed. This is when we realized that you have a bit of a knack for running. Your dad was excited to see you interested in running, and so he asked if you wanted to go for a little run with him one night. He had planned on just going about a mile, but at the end of that you were still chatting away, totally full of more energy… so he kept going. Mile two, still chatting… He decided you could probably just run a little 5k with him. You bounded up the hill towards our house at the end of it, and both you and your dad were beaming. You’re a runner, Nan Louise! On Thanksgiving we decided to go to the local track and run a family “turkey trot.” You kept up with Dad and completed your 5k way ahead of the rest of us… and then ran a few more laps with your sisters to encourage them. We just signed you up for your first official 5k tandem run with Dad next month, and I have a feeling we’ve found a little hobby you’re going to enjoy for years and years. 

 

Another fun thing has been watching you fall in love with your cat, Skipper. You got him last year for your seventh birthday, and you have proven the best of pet owners. You always make sure he has food and clean litter, but more than that, you take time each day to find him and sit with him. I joked with you the other day that he was giving you a hug, but I think it’s true! Only with you will he hop on your lap, nestle in, and then throw his arm around your arm. It reminds me a little bit of how your Great Grandpa AJ is with cats (and all animals!), as they seem to be drawn to him by some magic thread. You have a certain gentleness and love inside of you that most animals seem to be aware of and respond to. That’s a gift, because I sure don’t have it ;) ! I am not a cat person, but we’ve all grown to like seeing Skipper around the yard, appreciate his mice-catching abilities, and more than anything, love to see you love him. We even had a little one-year birthday celebration for him where he got milk and chicken, and while you maybe thought it was because we love Skipper, it’s because we love you so much, Nan. And that Skipper-party made you so happy. 

 

Speaking of what makes you happy: you are a people magnet! And your friends are some of your favorite things in all the world. You have some truly great ones in your life, but the common denominator is you—YOU are a good friend, Nan. You know what your friends like and don’t like, what makes them happy when they’re feeling sad, and you just bring life to every circle of people you walk into. Being a good friend is one of the best things you can bring into this world, so keep loving well and freely, my girl. 

 

Another thing you do well? BRINGING THE FUN! You are a goofball through and through and it is one of my favorite things about you. You are always down for good time, whether that’s a silly dance, a joke session, laughing at something nonsensical, or just making funny faces to get people laughing. Your friends at school have had fun with your obsession and jokes about candy candy candy this year, and you caught on that it was funny, so you have really played the part. You even write your name “Nan Candy” on your papers. 

You are a really great big sister to Sloan, and I love overhearing all your conversations with him when you are imparting all your "wisdom" :). One day you two were eating lunch and for 15 minutes you told him the entire Gospel story, pausing to answer his questions. I remember you saying, about Jesus, "He didn't say 'I better fight them, so then I don't die.' He said, 'Okay. It's time.'" Later you were explaining him on the cross and said, "No food. No water. And he died. But Sloan! After three days, he rose from the dead. He come alive again! Cause you know what, God was like, he died for their sins. That's amazing. He helped our people. God was like, 'I'll make him alive again.'... God is everywhere." Sloan said, "I know: He's fire at night, and clouds at day." 

 

You are the most fun to surprise/scare too, because you react with your entire body, almost in tears, screaming, and then bursting into laughter! You’ve been like this since you were little—you could vacillate between tears and laughter in a matter of seconds, and it is still true. Your dad often says that you have a plug in from the world straight to your heart, and you respond in emotional ways to everything. Whether that is a swell of music in a movie, or your friend falling and bleeding, or someone talking about something difficult, you get tears in your eyes and feel it with them. The same is true when it’s something happy or joyful, your whole body will just wiggle in an almost dance response. I’m sure there will be times in your life that this doesn’t feel like a good trait to have—it may feel cumbersome or exhausting to feel in such big ways—but I think it’s such an incredible way in which the Lord has made you, to be able to relate emotionally to what is happening around you and I pray you never lose it. 

 

You are still a wonderful helper, seeing needs before I have to ask. And if I do ask you and your siblings to do a job like pick up sticks around the yard, you are the first to jump in and the last to finish until the task is complete. You have what I would refer to as “stick-to-itivness.” You still often find yourself anxious or nervous about things, but I’ve seen you grow a lot in this area as well this year, finding ways to work through it or ask questions before something becomes too much for you. When your dad and I went to visit Aunt Kali on the other side of the world, it really made your little heart worried. That’s okay. Keep leaving those worries with Jesus. Your little mind is just always whirring on, and I encourage you to keep asking questions and seeking answers, of those around you and of God. This process will help you over and over again in your life. I really think one of the best gifts for our faith is our curiosity. 

I could write an entirely separate letter of all the things you’ve said and ways you’ve said them that have made us laugh and laugh. You tend to just say whatever pops in your head (something we’re actually working on ;) ), but it can result in the funniest of things. One day you and I had been running errands, and when we pulled into the garage the door squeaked. Your eyes got big and you said, “What was that?! Did they buy a cow or something while we were gone?!” Once while driving you piped up from the backseat, apropos of nothing: “Who was the first dog in the world? You should type that up on Facebook” (meaning I should Google it ;) ). Once you’d been struggling in the bathroom department for a few days and finally had some success. You came down the hall and said, “Whew! I’ve needed to do that for two days! I couldn’t even run around at recess—it’s really been holding me down!”  Once you were getting ready for school and shared with me, “I’m wearing a black shirt so that the bees leave me alone. Then they will think I’m a squirrel… or a racoon! And not a flower and they won’t bother me.” One of my favorites though was when I overheard you telling Sloan what it meant to marry someone: “You have to find a girl and kiss them. Well, you have to have a tea party, with cake too. And she will wear a flowy dress and you have to wear a black suit.” 

 

Like I said, I could write an entire book, but there are a few more I don’t want to forget from this year. I was trying to get a bike down off its hanger in the garage one day. It almost fell and would have crashed on top of Sloan and you ran off. When I successfully had it down you said, “Oh man. That was a horribility!” You do this a lot, mashing words together and creating new ones that make even better sense. A the possibility of something horrible happening became “horribility,” and I think they should add it to the dictionary! Once, at bedtime when I leaned over to kiss you goodnight, you grabbed my face in my hands and said, “When you crink your ice cream to the side and it squishes up like a grandpa skin… that’s what your eyes look like on the side when you smile.” Oh sweet Nan, those laugh and smile lines are in large part due to YOU—who keeps me laughing and smiling all of my days. The most recent was when you went off for a run with Brent and shouted, “We’ll be back in 100 hours and 70 cents!” I want to be like you when I grow up… full of joy and laughter and never at a loss for words to describe something! 

 

You finally have all your front teeth, after 4 years with none after you knocked two out. Your hair is still a wild mane of beauty. You always use at least one if not two of your library book check-out limits to get books for Sloan. I think you would survive solely on sourdough bread if I let you (me too, girl, me too). You love to listen to audio books on your Yoto while curled up with Skipper on the trampoline, and you ride your bike as fast as you can down our street. You still grab my hand when we’re walking from time to time (please don’t ever stop), and you wanted your birthday party with friends this year to be at our favorite spot at the river. You’re never low on energy and spice and fun. Oh Nan Louise, I truly truly truly cannot imagine our days without you in them. 

 

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. 

 

Nan Louise, happy EIGHTH birthday! We will always come for you, and there is nothing you could ever do that could make us stop loving you. 

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.