A Letter to My Ten Year Old Girl

Dear Daughter,

Wow. Ten whole beautiful years of loving you. Of being your Mama. Of watching you grow and learn and live and love. You and I, dear girl, are quite the pair. God knew I needed you, more than I ever could have fathomed. When I learned I was pregnant with you, I had a seven month old baby napping upstairs. I cried because I couldn’t believe it…I cried because I didn’t feel ready. But the moment I found out that little baby on the ultrasound screen was a baby girl, everything started making sense. I. needed. you.

Sure you make me want to pull my hair out at times—your stubborn willful self is an awful lot like mine. But even after you and I may have a disagreement, I always know we will be okay. You’ve been a Mama’s Girl since the day you were born, and still today, at ten years old, you are. You’ll go to bed earlier if it means “Mom can tuck you in.” If it means Mom can lie with you, read, pray, tickle your back and listen to a song while holding your hand. Right now, you still feel you “need” that. And I can’t help but wonder how long that will last? “She won’t always like me…” I’ve said to myself.

Moms and daughters, Reese, often struggle. Maybe it’s when daughters start really coming into their own self and begin to have strong differing opinions or thoughts than their moms? Maybe it’s when daughters decide that their moms know nothing and just ‘don’t understand?’ I don’t think there is a magic age and perhaps I will be entirely wrong, but I keep expecting us to struggle. I guess even if you don’t have months or years where you just don’t want to be ‘close’ to me, I do know that we WILL struggle. But guess what? When we do, I will still need you. And I hope you will still need me.

I spent most of my life racing. By racing I mean wishing for the next thing—I wished to grow UP from a young age, and in many ways, as a kid I did grow up pretty fast. I think being the youngest sibling to a brother with severe special needs can do that. I couldn’t wait to drive, to finish high school. I couldn’t wait for college to move to Kentucky and to begin pursuing my dreams. I wished and I wished and I wished. Then God surprised me with YOU, and then time started to actually fly by. I found myself wishing for more of it…for it to slow down…for it to STOP even, like it could have a pause button, and I could freeze exactly where my kids were at in certain different moments. But we can’t do that, can we, Sis? Time is fleeting and I have said that from the very beginning of YOUR time.

You are so excited to be double digits. And you should be! You’re officially a “pre-teen” now and while I may not feel ready, YOU definitely are and regardless, it’s happening. If there is one thing I wish I could help you do though…it would be to try to stay present in the time you are in. Where ARE you right NOW? Let me tell you, dear girl.

You are perfectly, positively, YOU. You are such your own little person, with your own thoughts and personality and character and charm. You’re not me, or your dad, or your brother, or your friends—you are YOU and I pray you continue to love that little girl inside of you. You love deeply and have the gifts of empathy and compassion. This is your last year at the school your dad works at, 5th grade—recently it dawned on you that after this year, he will be “alone” at school, and you cried for him. Your heart is as big as the ocean, sweet girl.

You’re artistic and creative. You are genuinely funny and make me laugh out loud. You LOVE to dance and make videos. You’re discovering the world of makeup and flared jeans and skincare routines. I’ve worked hard to not display negativity around you when it comes to getting ready, or when trying on clothes. I know you are already sometimes struggling with looks and appearance and ‘what will people think…’ and I have taught you to remember the little girl inside of you. How would you talk to her? Would you be mean or hurtful or unkind? Of course not!! So I hope and pray DAILY that you will love yourself WELL. That you will find gentleness inside for the girl on the outside. Life is hard, Baby girl. But I hope you don’t yet know or realize HOW hard it is.

I look back at pictures, memories from Facebook, and I can’t help but beam. You are very much the same girl that you were when you were 6 months old, 12 months old, 2 years old, 4 years old, and beyond. You’ve been our WOO GIRL from the very beginning—an ER doctor actually was the one to describe you as that! When the sedation couldn’t really make you drowsy when they were going to stitch up your forehead as a toddler, the doctor exclaimed, “Boy you have a real woo girl on your hands!” One of my friends said she can see you being a CEO one day. You are strong. Determined. A go getter. And I don’t ever see that changing.

You might be mad at me for writing this next part, but I just have to. This space has been very much like an ‘online journal’ to me for many, many years. Recently you told your dad that you had seen a boy you had a crush on, in passing at school. You were so giddy about it and cute. You said the boy had nodded at you and smiled. Dad said, “How did that make you feel?” You replied, “My insides got all warm and fuzzy!!!” Oh Reese Elisabeth…I’m not ready for the seasons with boys. For the worries and wonders that will automatically come with that. But it’s okay—we aren’t there quite yet. When we ARE there, I hope you know that I am always here. You can ask me ANYthing, ANY time. I hope as you grow older, that you don’t shy away from your parents advice, and that you won’t ever, ever feel you have to hide. In all of your emotions, wonders, worries, and hormones, I AM HERE.

Last but not least, Brené Brown wrote, “We have to be women we want our daughters to be.” Elisabeth, you have seen first hand that I am far from perfect. I pray and hope so much though, that through my career of loving and teaching kids of all ages, mentoring young girls, coaching young girls, working incredibly hard in horse ownership and a photography business—I hope and pray that you see a woman you are proud of. I hope you see a woman who loves Jesus and who has trusted HIM with her whole life. Who though has been diagnosed with a serious medical condition, STILL chooses to trust and depend on Him. I hope you see a woman who loves her family and would do anything for them. A wife who has been head over heels with her husband for over fifteen years now! And I don’t want you to be ME, sweet girl, because I fully believe one day, you are going far surpass whatever ounce of greatness I may have.

Happy 10th Birthday, dear Daughter. I love you more than this post or any number of words could relay. Thank you for being mine, thank you for being such a friend and for needing me and truly loving me all of these TEN years.

Love,

Mama

Daughters & Dance

I'm experiencing all the Mom emotions over here as I sort through these images and work through what exactly brings me to tears and what is making me jump for joy with my 4-year old daughter starting ballet. She begins classes tomorrow and this is the most excited I've ever seen her. 

When we bought the black leotard, pink tights, and ballet shoes, it first brought me back to MY ballet classes. I don't remember them super well, but I can see myself running through the large studio, practicing simple plies, and the first [and only] recital I did. I don't recall why I didn't want to continue with classes, other than maybe I was more into horses and was trying a LOT of different sports at the time. Reese right now, has it made up in her mind that she will be a dancer and perform on stage, and hey, maybe she will! 

Before taking these photos, I opened Spotify and put in "ballet music." Reese immediately began to twirl and spin and attempt her own versions of plies and grand jetés. She was so serious and yet having so much FUN all in one. 

I feel so much pride in her, and as her mom, am so excited to see how this helps her grow and change. At the same time, I see a little girl who IS going to struggle with failure, difficulties, and perhaps even have her feelings hurt within the sport. I know, I know, she's FOUR. The other little girls in her class will be so sweet and having so much fun, but as a woman who participated in sports, starting at very young ages, it's hard to accept the hurt that eventually, my baby WILL walk through. 

If you ever did sports, do you remember the times you felt insecure? Not good enough? Ashamed? I started volleyball in the fourth grade, and it wasn't too many years later that my uniform was skin tight miniature spandex shorts. In high school, I was a tanning bed babe, obsessed with getting golden brown for those fluorescent gym lights, and I was always insecure about my thighs touching. So yes, I realize that Reese is four. But it won't be too much longer before she's fourteen, and I know that insecurities and feelings of doubt begin MUCH before then.

I took these photos of my beautiful baby girl dancing and LOVING being in her ballerina outfit because I wanted to remember this moment. This season of life she is in, where she doesn't know where insecurities are, what shame looks or feels like, and while she believes she IS beautiful because she is. 

I so hope that I can instill in her courage, bravery, and the strength to put aside negative feelings and hurtful people. My high school insecurities didn't last forever, but they were still there, and those years weren't exactly easy. Maybe Reese will experience them, maybe she won't, and maybe I need to also pray that I am strong enough to guide her regardless. 

Reese Elisabeth-Morgan, OH how I love you! What a magical season of life you are in right now. I cannot wait to watch you dance and make new friends. You are a light and a bundle of strength and laughter. If you want to dance throughout your years, I will be so elated to watch you. Smile, always, because Daughter, you are radiant and you are so loved. 

PS: Yes, I know her strings need to be cut on her ballet shoes. I'm totally going to let her teacher help me tighten them and fit them accordingly. Also, here's a photo of me in my dance years, or should I say YEAR. Thanks, Mom for sending it!