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.
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.
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
christmas reflections
For the first time in a very long time, Advent was not a stressful time in our house. After stepping down last year as Coordinator of our church's MOPS group, I found myself this fall with much more time on my hands. Time that could be better spent on family and home and faith.
I've appreciated so much more this stay-at-home mom gig I have. As the kids grow older, the lists seem to increase and become more complicated. Turning the time inward - guarding it, protecting it, valuing it - has been amazing. For so long I had been paying the price for something without realizing the cost. I now know it's worth and cherish it immensely.
Feeling very thankful and reflective this Christmas season. And looking forward to the year ahead.
Christmas Eve at our church
another soccer season
Andrew finished up his first-ever indoor soccer league play today. It was a winless season, but his team was up against higher caliber players almost every week. With this under our belt, plus outdoor AYSO, we've learned some stuff about soccer and Andrew and what may come next. We know what fun soccer looks like and what competitive soccer looks like. We know that learning some skills from trained coaches will take Andrew further. And we know where our money will be well-spent and where it won't, especially if this is something in which Andrew continues to have an interest.
Up next? Upward Basketball in January - a community program put on by our church. Stay tuned. (Mom and Dad are excited about this one!)
christmas angel
Every year in the school Christmas program, the Kinders dress up as angels (their gowns do double duty for graduation in the spring). Our first experience with Morgan didn't happen. She was sick, had a fever and stuck on the couch. Much to my dismay (and her delight) we instead streamed the program online.
So this year was exciting. We had an angel in the program! And an adorable one at that. One that sang proudly and stood tall.
Scott and I always swell when we see our kids happy and successful. But hearing the sweet voices of 30 Kinders singing about the birth of Jesus, unashamed and innocent, well, that did us in. Glossy eyes, lumps in our throats, a sideways glance at each other while hanging onto a squirmy Matthew - thankful for the moment of gratitude and blessing.
decorating day
I'm not sure if we'll ever chop down a Christmas tree again. The last time we trekked into the woods, we had a 9 month old Morgan. Maybe Scott and I are too practical and too frugal, too uptight to drag little ones into sub-zero temperatures for the now expensive "experience". But I'm okay with that.
Growing up, my Dad picked up a tree on the way home from work - there was no group decision. It just suddenly appeared in the garage, sitting in a bucket of water, until the day he strung the lights and Mom handed out the ornaments.
Born out of convenience, we've made a new tradition at a big box store. A real, live Fraser fir sits in our living room every December. Doesn't matter how it got there, does it?
doo-wop
Today our school is celebrating its 50th day of the year. The kids have been learning about 1950's style and dance moves in preparation for today's sock hop, complete with root beer floats. A very fun day at school for Morgan and Andrew.
breaking tradition
We are super blessed to have a group of families that we love hanging out with. This year, we did Halloween together, and not just because it was a Saturday night where Daylight Savings ends. But because we love living life with this pack of people.
So despite the fact that we've done Halloween in our own neighborhood for ten straight years, we made sure the lights were out and headed to the hood of our dear friends who served up some tasty chili inside their warm and cozy house. And then? We hit the streets for some treats.
There's something about being with others that can lift your spirits. Our crew lasted a long time tonight. Through wind and rain. Andrew kept up with the big boys and Morgan barely muttered a word about being cold and uncomfortable. Matthew was a trooper in his train get-up. Such good times. So thankful for our tribe.
cars, cars, cars
There's a boy in this house who is infatuated with vehicles. So when it came time for a little father-son bonding, Scott and Andrew headed to a free local car museum. This was a long awaited visit, one that had been talked about for weeks.
But first things first - lunch. At the counter.
Full bellies were essential before taking in all of this:
Andrew was thrilled to learn that he was able to sit in some of the vehicles.
Of all the choices, Andrew's absolute favorite was the 1930 Austin Bantam Roadster.
A fun day for these two for sure!
his turn
Today is Matthew's first day of three-year-old Preschool. He was super excited and walked right into his classroom without a bit of hesitation. No doubt, he will have a wonderful morning of new experiences.
This drop-off was different than any other, though. Not because there's a newly hired teacher or a new location for the class or new set-up in the Early Childhood Center. (Those things ruffle my feathers, Matthew has no idea.) But it's different because chances are this is the last time we'll be doing this. Each milestone with Matthew is our last first. As someone who favors consistency, this one matters just as much as the first two.
In the crazy schedule we now keep, it's way too easy to forget the big moments.
Here's to remembering.
until next year
Every year we say goodbye to summer with a trip to the shore of our favorite lake. Hard to believe it's over already. So long, Summer. See you next year.
three years
Dear Matthew,
Today you are three whole years old. Happy birthday!
You're such a mature little guy. As the youngest in our family you've absorbed so much and it shows: your vocabulary is huge, your confidence is hardly lacking, and your desire to be self-sufficient is incredibly fierce. Combine all of that with your physical stature, and people often mistake you for a four-year old. I loved the reactions I received this summer when (at 47lbs.) I announced you were only two - shock and awe. When engaged in conversation recently, you excitedly shared that you were now "big" and that you would be going to preschool.
All of your so-called maturity is most evident in your desire to be independent. Keeping up with Morgan and Andrew is of utmost importance, and when you're left behind, your heart breaks into a million pieces.
This selective need for independence also makes it challenging to parent you. I am constantly mothering with two choices: Would you like to walk to bed or be carried? Do you want to sit or stand at the potty? Are you going to hold my hand or shall I pick you up? I'm not sure how long I'll be able to trick you into obeying me, but for now it works.
Much to my dismay, you stopped napping this summer. You're entirely too young to go without all that sleep, but staying up hours past your bedtime to fight us about not being tired just wasn't going to fly anymore. Not to mention it was a total encroachment on the time Daddy and I have together in the evenings. The transition was tough at first - napping in the car, on the couch, on the floor, struggling to keep eyes open in the late afternoon. We now work extra hard to keep you awake through dinner so just before 7:00 you're going down easy. Those 11-12 hours of sleep still happen, it just looks different than what your brother and sister did.
And I wouldn't expect anything less. Matthew, you are an entirely different kid. You march to the beat of your own drum, blaze your own trails, fearlessly proceed into the world. Your bold and daring attitude is refreshing, and yet it does have it's pitfalls. It's been very clear this last year that you don't comprehend your own strength or the affects of your actions. You pushed through the glass of our living room table, smashed Morgan's sentimental piggy bank, and snapped two DVDs right out of their cases. It's incredibly difficult not to be frustrated with you during these times, but seeing my response along with Morgan's tears helped you grasp the seriousness of your actions.
As the baby of our family, you love to be the show stopper. A laugh from someone during your shenanigans only reinforces your behavior. Eventually you'll learn that folks don't find your body noises and - I'll be honest - obnoxiousness funny. Unfortunately, you won't be able to sail through life on charm alone.
While those center-stage displays are deliberate and exasperating, it's your unintentional moments that are truly the most hilarious. Your face is so expressive when you speak. It's the combination of your lively tone and diction with raised brows or eye rolls or tilted head that make Daddy and I stifle our giggles. Most times you even refer to your father and I as "Dad" and "Mom", and to be honest, coming from a toddler (gosh, or maybe a preschooler?) like you, it sounds strange when you omit the ending that usually makes a two-syllable version of our names.
Music is something you enjoy, specifically singing in the car, demanding TobyMac (or VeggieTales or Owl City) as you ride along, using the microphone we have at home, or even the acoustics in the Meijer vestibule to hear your own echo. For a better part of this year, you requested "Joy To The World" at bedtime. Lately, you've altered the lyrics of traditional tunes to fit the first words that come to your mind. I can't wait to see how you'll perform with your Kindergarten class in a couple years during the school Christmas program.
Reading is also a love of yours. On your current list of favorites? Anything to do with trains or rhyming, the "Llama, Llama" series, and (coincidentally? I think not...) the "No, David!" books. Thomas the Train is still a favorite, but not exclusively. Our weekly trips to the library are highlights for you.
Typically your play depends on which sibling you're interacting with. Hanging with Andrew, it's driving vehicles and riding bikes. You both thrive on competition and Andrew enjoys his chance to practice leadership. But when Morgan comes along, there's lots of pretend play. She becomes the director of the fun and makes a sweet effort to appeal to your level of enjoyment.
You like puzzles and coloring, Play Doh and paint, cutting with scissors, anything crafty; riding bikes, chalking the driveway and blowing bubbles. In June, we took swimming lessons together and you screamed. Just three weeks ago you were jumping into a friend's pool. It's been fun to watch you grow and change.
Your past year was much different than those previous. You're older and more capable, and that opened up opportunities for you to participate in things you hadn't before. It's true that you did more strawberry eating than picking, that on our Virginia roadtrip you rocked the roadside pitstop, and that you wandered on our camping adventure more than most. But those things would not have happened - and did not happen - until now. Whether you like it or not, you're now along for the ride in ways you've never been before, Matthew. Hold on.
While you and I spend a lot of time together, Matthew, I feel confident in saying you most adore your time with Daddy. You two are pals from the potty to the playground. It may have started by accident - Daddy giving me a break - but it has turned into a deep love and understanding between the two of you. He always makes the dailies delightful. Brushing your teeth and washing your hands has never been so fun.
Mom
But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. Jeremiah 17:7-8
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