nine years

Happy ninth birthday, Morgan!

You haven't hit double digits, but this is most definitely a milestone year in your life. In OUR life. You see, this birthday marks the median to 18 - we are now half-way through our mental jar of marbles representing our weeks with you. These are such critical years of value formation, the years where you still ask why, the years where Dad and I have a huge responsibility in making sure the seeds we choose to plant are watered and cared for and nurtured. Nine is a big deal.

Seeing you grow physically has only reinforced that number. You're so tall! And I'm not the only one to take notice. It's true that you have gained a couple inches this year. Your adult teeth are coming in so straight and your smile suddenly has a maturity about it. Your closet is thinning out as many of your clothes are no longer fitting in length. And your ears are now pierced! The same age I was when my Aunt took me to get mine done.

With all this growth has come coordination. Your athletic abilities have really started to develop. This year we enrolled you in AYSO soccer at your request, a sport you enjoyed learning about and playing, but not one Dad and I think you will love.

Basketball seems to be more your speed right now. Upward Basketball just wrapped up at our church and it's there that we saw some sparkle. Watching you dribble, drive, and shoot to score during games was both surprising and impressive. That experience has translated into a constant desire to shoot in the driveway and watch college basketball on TV. We are already having so much fun with March Madness!

This past year you professed your love for the Spartans and future commitment to attend college in East Lansing. I'm not sure if this was influence of your uncles and aunt or MSU's favorable year in mainstream athletics that you enjoyed watching. Either way, you love having a team to root for and wear the green and white with pride as much as possible.

Piano has been going well and just like basketball, you can play without looking down. This is a sign of dedicated practice and natural skill. Your first recital was at the end of second grade and it's there that Dad and I were in awe of your bravery to perform without hesitation. It wasn't so long ago that you were a frightened preschooler who wouldn't stand on the steps at church to sing with your classmates. And here we are today, watching your courage grow.

Now that you can read music, the piano is a magnet for you. Seldom do I remind you to practice. At Christmas you relished the chance to play (two-handed chords) from my old books. I love to watch you at the keyboard, to see your eyes maintain contact with the notes, your hands knowing just where to go to play sweet melodies.

And just like a record scratching to stop beautiful music, the piano will suddenly deliver a clammer of low notes as the fat hand of a three year old tries to create a duet with you. Yes, Matthew loves to be near you, both to soak in all your sisterly love and to push your buttons. In these moments of unexpected interruption you are beyond annoyed, but most times you enjoy your responsible role of big sister.


















While you typically play it safe with Matthew, it's with Andrew that you're more adventurous. He brings out this side of you, ready to explore the unknown, play new games or be more daring. With Andrew as your front-line, you'll go along with almost anything, as long as he takes the first step.

I love that Andrew coaxes you out of the comfortable because your dedication to routine is so devout - you eat your toast in a peanut butter, jam, and cinnamon sugar pattern. You won't empty the clean silverware in the morning until your teeth are brushed. Belts are regularly rotated in your uniform pants each week. Consistency is your cozy. The apple doesn't fall far, my dear.

Your bedtime has started moving. I knew this day would come eventually. You've always been a super sleeper, Morgan. And Dad and I have heard scrambled words tumble out of your mouth plenty of times as you sleep, but this year you've actually started walking in your sleep. At the end of one night as Dad and I came into our room, we found you sleeping in our bed. Another time, we found you had placed your book there. The most bizarre? We heard grunting from the dark hallway and found you standing with a firm grip on all of your bedding, struggling to finish stripping your bed. As a kid, I remember waking up in the middle of sleep walking, too, doing that exact same thing with my sheets.

Spending time with Dad alone is still one of your favorite things to do. Last fall he took you to a Lions football game and you enjoyed every second of that special outing, especially watching Matthew Stafford and eating popcorn. He's still the fun one, and being near him is where you like to be.


















What else about our Morgan Grace? You enjoy scanning the Sunday Comics, watching PBS's newest shows, playing sports of any kind, accessorizing Kit and Ruthie, and reading mysteries. You're just as happy with a book in your hand as you are a bowl of ice cream.








































Third grade has been good to you. School work still comes easy, and you've even mastered Ga-ga Ball at recess. While many of the girls in your class are on the swings or playing house, you're in the pit and sure to let us know at dinner when you've won a match that day.



















This school year has also brought about a shift in your friendships. Navigating relationships is hard to do at any age, and like it or not, you've had to start recognizing what good friends look like. I've been praying for God to send a new pal into your life and He has delivered. You have a small crew that you occasionally share about, and two in particular whose names are mentioned most often. When you were little, I never thought about the possibility that the children of my closest friends may not be yours. Like you, Dad and I have our crew, but because you are not in the same grades as the other families' kids, it's more challenging for you to connect. I realize now that I should be more intentional about helping you forge new friendships, inviting girls over despite not being tight with their moms, and making more plans with our family friends so the distance is lessened.

My eyes have been opened a little more this year about what it means to parent a girl. Many of the challenges you face are no different than what I did at the same age - social situations at the lunch table, third grade classroom politics, recess. But the world is a different place now, and while I'm not eager to expose you to it, I do understand that keeping you hidden under a rock just isn't wise.

The questions you've been brave enough to ask this year are big questions. I'm thrilled you have courage to ask them. And I'm even more honored to get to answer them. I always remind you that Dad and I will tell you the truth about anything because what I've discovered as you grow is that I cannot protect you from the world. You will be exposed to tragedy and temptation, you will associate with people who make damaging choices, you will hear and see inappropriate messages even from people you consider close. It's not avoiding those things that matters most; it's knowing how to make the right choices along the way that does.

We spend many minutes each night lying in your bed discussing the day. These moments together are when you allow me to impart wisdom. While you may not immediately apply my words to all your situations, I know you are hearing me, and will someday find those tools helpful when the need arises.

There will come a time in a few short years when you don't allow me in so close. You will be eager to test your wings a bit and see how well you do on your own. I pray, Morgan, that our imparted knowledge and Truth will guide you along the way. We are half-way to launch. May you constantly be "rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing in thankfulness." Colossians 2:6-8

Happy birthday, Morgan Grace.
I love you dearly,
Mom