Dear Ellie - Ten Years

My dear Ellie,

Happy birthday, baby cakes! Welcome to double digits! Holy cow, are you ever growing up. I mean, have you seen your ten-year photo? How beautiful are you?!

This birthday is an exciting one, not only because you're turning the big TEN, but also because it will be your most "normal" birthday celebration in years. You have a big batch of pink cupcakes ready to take to your classmates at school today; we had an early celebration at a theme park in January; and your official party will be a sleepover with friends at our house. At long last, the sleepover you had planned for 2020 will come to fruition! The celebrations of the last two years have been wonderful - we found perfect new, creative ways to celebrate safely in the midst of a pandemic, and though they felt subpar in the moment, are now treasured memories (at least for me, and I think for you, too!). But, I'm so happy that this year you have much more say over how you celebrate your big day. I'm so excited to give you that experience!

The pandemic that dominated much of my last couple of letters to you is not over, unfortunately, but we're trending in the right direction, and hopefully by my next letter it will have been downgraded to an endemic and things will be even more "normal" than they are now. Since my last letter, we've all been vaccinated against covid-19 (and Daddy and I even had boosters!), most people have ditched masks, you're back to in-person school and extracurriculars, we see family more regularly and are even planning a road trip for this summer. However, to get here we've also weathered the two worst outbreaks of the pandemic, thanks to new variants (delta, right at the end of the summer, when you were preparing to start school; and omicron, over the holidays/January). We're still learning about how our vaccines will stand the test of time, concerns for new variants to come still loom, and even as we celebrate your birthday, Papa is hospitalized with covid in Ireland, a very unwelcome souvenir from his St. Patrick's Day travels. We're so thankful for vaccines for keeping him from a more dire situation - thank you, science! You still love science, so there's another good reason for it!

You're doing very well back at school, but that's no surprise. You are a very responsible student, and have taken charge of your own homework/assignments this year with little to no help from me (and you've done a great job!). You like your teachers, and still love math and science the most. You're currently rocking fractions in class, and continue to look for any opportunity to create/solve your own math problems for fun. You also like writing essays, and tell me every day after school what you wrote about and your arguments for your position (they're good!). You still love to read, and we've basically stopped buying you chapter books (relying on the library instead) because you just finish them IMMEDIATELY. Of course, you're not opposed to re-reading, so that's a plus! You're still mostly reading the Harry Potter books, over and over. I think you just pick your favorite parts to reread rather than reading them cover to cover, which is kind of a fun way to do it. You're enjoying your Gifted class this year, including a research project on a winter Olympian (Karen Chen) during the Beijing Olympics. You're also very excited to be learning to play the recorder in Music class. Your homeroom class job is to lead the Monday Morning Meetings with the class, asking a discussion question and leading your peers as they share answers. At the beginning of the year you were devastated over this assignment, just a bundle of nerves and anxiety about it. But you've really settled in and found your groove, and now are looking for ways to ask deeper, more thought-provoking questions and make the whole thing more your own. I'm proud of you, kiddo!

You're back into the full swing of extracurricular activities, too. We resumed ballet at the end of the fall, and you're busy practicing for your first Upper School recital this May. You're still a proud Girl Scout (now a Junior!), though our old troop disbanded this year and we opted to be Juliettes rather than joining a new troop, so we have done a lot of online activities and badges at home together. You rocked cookie season again this year, beating your previous sales record by nearly 200 boxes (for a total of 701 this year!), and that even with a massive cookie supply chain shortage! You worked so hard to reach your goal! To get a little in-person Girl Scout action, you did join a Girl Scouts Lego Robotics team called the Codettes, which you really loved but unfortunately that came to a close this month, so we're looking for something to take its place. You've also continued to golf with Daddy, and I hear you're really improving! You even played your first nine holes with him about a month ago. You've also started playing in a little local soccer league in our neighborhood - it's very casual, so we'll see if it turns into anything, but you're having fun so far!

Speaking of our neighborhood, that's a big change to discuss! Just days after your birthday last year, we went to an open house in the Historic Springfield neighborhood - Grammy was in town, and we just wanted to show her what Springfield houses looked like. To our surprise, we fell in love with the house and about a month later, it became ours! We bought our first house! You guys were so excited to have a house that is ours, and it must have really been meant to be because you and E.J. each selected your rooms without any argument! Your new room is decorated in purple, white and teal, with purple jeweled knobs on your dresser and a lovely purple jeweled lamp on your bedside table, plus a rainbow curtain with star cutouts to let the light shine through. Both kids' bedrooms open up to what was once an upstairs porch, that is now closed in and makes a perfect playroom. You guys will disappear up there for hours, and we don't hear a peep from you! We have a wonderful front porch, where we sit on pleasant evenings, watch outdoor movies with our projector, and it is your favorite spot to do your homework. Aside from the wonderful house, we also have loved getting involved in our new neighborhood - we were prepared to host a band on our porch for a neighborhood music festival called Porchfest (but it was rained out!), you and I had a girls' night out for a Halloween bike ride to look at neighborhood decorations, we've made some friends, joined the soccer team, etc., etc. There's a lot to do and we're enjoying all of it!

You guys were both really great during the move - helpful and excited. There was some adjustment when we first moved in, though. You would call me up to your room nearly every night for a while with a fear to discuss, usually a fear of a fire in the house. I expect it was really just apprehension about being in a new, unfamiliar place, which is completely understandable. In time, you settled in and as we approach the year anniversary of being in this house, I think we're all starting to feel more at home! Your birthday and Easter are the last remaining holidays we have yet to experience here - I think once you've done all the holidays in the new house, it really does feel more homey. We just needed to build up some memories!

And we sure have made some fun memories this year! We kicked it off by (cabin) camping for your birthday, on the last cold night of the spring. We cooked hot dogs over an open fire and breakfast on the grill. We participated in "Bairdlympics" during Bairdcation this summer, and you took the gold in the Sponge Relay Race and tied for gold in the Smallest Splash competition. You attended another virtual Girl Scouts camp, learning all about cybersecurity and earning three badges (and are currently signed up for your first sleep away camp this summer!). We started going to Jumbo Shrimp games again, and EJ's baseball and football games. We finished reading the Harry Potter series and watched all the movies, dressed as Harry Potter "bad guys" for Halloween (you were Professor Umbridge!), and spent a couple of SUPER fun days at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios in honor of your nine-and-three-quarters birthday! You ran your first 5k, and several one-mile races. We visited Santa at Disney Springs and spent a couple days at a Disney resort (while Daddy attended a work conference). We had a handful of visitors: all of your grandparents, Aunt Heather, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Mark, and the Illinois cousins. We had friends over for trick-or-treating and Christmas movies on the porch. 

At ten years old, your best friends are Leela, Sophie and Sicily. Your favorite book is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and your favorite movie is Apollo 11. You still cuddle with your unicorn Cupcake at night. You like to sleep on your right side, near the edge of your bed (with pillows and stuffed animals and books all piled up behind you). You did a Girl Scouts journey about water and now are very concerned about wasting water and constantly remind us to turn off the faucet while we scrub our hands with soap! You love dogs and every time you see one out in the world, you tell its owner you love it. You're becoming very helpful around the house, always willing to do what I ask and regularly following a chore schedule (you clean the bathroom, change your sheets, dust your own room). You have shown some real bravery this year, including riding The Hulk rollercoaster at Universal (the first upside-down ride you've ever tried) with nary a hint of panic beforehand, and making small talk with the nurse who administered your covid vaccine as it happened (you asked her what she wanted for Christmas). You are kindhearted, often thinking of what others need and how you can help (for example, you asked if we can use some of your Girl Scout cookie earnings to buy books and toys for children in the hospital). You love Ruthie like crazy and still use your trademark voice and extended-bottom-jaw face when you talk to her. You play Legos with EJ, ask Alexa to play music so you can dance in your room, and love to draw. You stay up reading after we put you to bed at night and carry big books to school with you every day to read in your down time. You write great thank-you notes, complete with personal drawings for the recipient (you wrote notes to every cookie customer who ordered online this year). Your favorite color is still dark pink, and you love to accessorize (you have earrings for nearly every occasion, and you've started styling your hair in fun ways). 

You're just really, really growing up, my Ellie. I was really struck by that as I prepared for this birthday. I made a video for you, compiling clips from your past ten years into one four-minute video. The first couple of minutes of the video are mostly baby/toddler Ellie, and sometimes, it seems like that little girl was a whole other person entirely. There's no way the beautiful young woman who lives with me now is that same baby that I used to spend my days with, that same baby that I spent all my time cuddling and bouncing and rocking, taking to story times and for walks to find the turtles, tying blankets to her head so she could be Rapunzel, reading book after book to her as we sat on the floor for hours. Is that really you? I miss that little girl sometimes, that girl who would grab my hand as we set out to find the kitties, who would crawl into my lap for a cuddle after nap time, who would check my heartbeat with one of her many stethoscopes. She was so dear to me and those were some of the best days of my life.

But the video doesn't end with baby Ellie. It continues on, and we watch her grow. And the video then morphs from flashes of a cute little baby to frame after frame depicting a growing girl, gradually doing all the things little Ellie couldn't do. One by one, she faces her fears and her challenges and overcomes them. She slides on the slide. She dances at her ballet recital. She masters the monkey bars. She learns to ride her bike. She changes her earrings. She reads in church. She runs races and swings a golf club and plays baseball and dives in the waves and even fights Kylo Ren. She sells cookies and swims underwater and dances every chance she gets. The last two minutes of that video are just one clip after another that takes me right back to moments when I felt so proud of you, so proud that I could just burst. I can't watch it without getting tears in my eyes because holy cow, Ellie, I am SO PROUD OF YOU. Every moment of every day, I could explode with joy just because you're you and I get to be here to witness you becoming more and more you every single day. And who you are is really remarkable. There's nobody like you and frankly, that's a shame. The world would be a much better place if there were lots more Ellies.

But we only get one, and I'm so thankful that I get to be here with her, day in and day out, as she becomes the woman she will eventually be. If the first ten years brought all that accomplishment and growth for you, I can hardly wait to see what is coming your way in the next ten. I do, however, have a feeling the coming years may be more tumultuous for us - that's the way of it with teens and their mothers, isn't it? I hope it doesn't have to be, but I'm mentally preparing myself as best as I can, just in case. And, I know that at the end of the next ten years, you'll be leaving me to start your own adult life. Oooof, that will be rough, but also, a beautiful sight to see. I hope you will always be true to yourself, be your complete self in every way, and know that no matter who that turns out to be, I will love you fiercely. I will always be proud of you. And I will always be right behind you...or next to you, or holding your hand, or coming up to your room at night for comfort, or on the other end of the phone, or wherever you need me to be. I'm in your corner, Ellie, always. I will be here for you until the end of my days.

Thank you for making me a mother ten years ago today. Thank you for challenging me and bearing with me as I try to figure out how to be just the mother you need. I hope I won't let you down.

I love you, Ellie-girl. Happy birthday.

Love always, 

Mama

* * * * * 

Dear Ellie,

Happy 10^th birthday!!!! How crazy is it that your single-digit days are over?! I’m not sure whether it’s actually crazy or if it’s just on my mind because you have been very aware of it for weeks. Just today, there has been an extensive running commentary of single digit lasts. Last outfit, last Daddy/Ellie chat on the drive home from ballet, last dinner, shower, Ruthie belly scratch and good night kiss. Looking ahead, you have also made some comments about almost being a “tween.” I’m not sure either of us knows what that means, but it’s only possible because we’ve now known each other for a whole decade. (I hope you read that last word in your best Kennedy/Scrimgeour voice). I am pretty confident it has been the best decade of your whole life and I can’t tell you how much happiness it brings me to think about so many of the times we’ve had. I’m so glad your Mama keeps such good records.

Fortunately, this isn’t going to be that kind of letter where we dig in on all of them (just think of the ink and trees saved!) At the same time, I think this letter could be a good chance to take stock of where you are 10 years in. The memories that come to mind from this year seem to line up neatly with what I want to say about you as a person, so we’ll see how it goes. Long story short: you’re just so, so special. I’m not allowed to say you’re perfect, because, technically, no body is, and the last thing I want to do is put pressure on you to keep up such a crazy pace of awesomeness. But the truth is that you’re going to be amazing no matter what you’re doing, so long as it’s what makes you happy. All that said, at 10-years old, you are curious, well-rounded, and kind.  

Curious. Notice I didn’t say smart. Sure, you know a lot for your age (All A’s so far and really high standardized test scores even during a Pandemic!), and at the rate you read (I’d bet you read close to a hundred books this past year, including most of the Harry Potter books three times each) you are going to know a lot more in a year, and so on. But you are so much more than what you know. Real wisdom is knowing you don’t know everything and that you never will, but that you don’t stop trying to learn more. You wonder, you dream, you ask questions. You are curious! This year, you took on the Rubix cube–you’ve totally mastered one face and are working your way through the rest of it–worked your way up to 19 digits of pi for fun, and when your gifted teacher talked about a “genius hour” project where you’d investigate something, such as ‘how do you draw dogs?’ or ‘why is smoking bad for you?’, your first thought was to wonder about the building blocks of all things – atoms and chemical compounds and such. I think this came from your fascination with the search for the “grand unifying theory” of Physics. I wish I could remember how it came up any of the times we’ve talked about it, but suffice it to say that, knowing you, I’m not surprised it did. 

You also always say your favorite teacher is the one who teaches math and science, even though we’re pretty sure you’ve had some really great ELA teachers. Speaking of reading, I would be remiss to not say a bit more about finishing the Harry Potter franchise. I can’t tell you how meaningful it was to read every word together as a family, and to keep up with our characters right up to the very end. I love that you say you hear our family voices in your head when you re-read the books, and I love that we were able to make it to the Wizarding World at Universal Studios to put an exclamation point on the magic. 

Well rounded. As we work our way back to a new normal, you are back in a ballet class and rocking girl scouts, including your Lego robotics club before it ended prematurely. You sold 700 boxes of cookies this season, even with historic supply shortages. You’re still teaching yourself songs on the piano when they interest you and have started playing the recorder at school. You ran your first 5k and recently completed the Junior River Run mile in 7:25! I was so proud of you for doing that on your own because distance running has been a bit of a journey. Most times we have tried to run more than a mile together, including the 5k we ran with EJ last Spring, you started to get nervous and needed to stop and walk for longer stretches than your legs or lungs actually needed. It has seemed like you were dealing with a mini-anxiety attack and I haven’t known what to do other than to keep taking it easy. You, EJ, and I tried to run a mile race around Christmas, and it happened to you ¼ of the way in and you couldn’t make yourself recover or push through. So, when you said you wanted to run the Junior River Run, I let you go by yourself and tried to let you talk yourself up and make your own plan. And you nailed it! I’m excited to see where running takes you because you’re good at it and you really seem to like doing it, in spite of the hiccups. 

But, Ellie, what I really want to highlight in this section is that you’ve gotten really into . . . dramatic pause . . . wait for it. . . golf!!! How cool is that?!?! I wish I could say it was spending time together or the lessons I’ve tried to give you, but I think the real driver of your consistent interest in practicing was the Summer Olympics. This is the first year golf was part of the games and you just love the idea of winning a medal someday. Which I get, it’s a really cool idea I only recently had to give up on (not that I ever tried close to as hard as would be needed to make it happen). We bought matching official Team USA golf shirts and have been to range at least a few times each month. You can hit your “iron 7” in the air, but you really love hitting “bomberoos” with your driver. We even have a secret handshake for big hits. We always include putting sessions in our practice and end it with a contest or series of contests. Whenever EJ comes along (about half the time), you always ask to go last because you “love the pressure.” I usually handicap the contests, and you win as often as you lose. You have gotten so much better in a year. It’s probably the repetition, but it could also be because you keep a copy of Ben Hogan’s Five Lessons in your bed and you do things like hold your Harry Potter wand like a golf club. It might also be because you have such a great attitude after mishits and on bad days. Of course you get frustrated, but you just keep swinging, which is a skill that will suit you well in anything you do. See, e.g., Thomas Edison and the 999 ways not to make a light bulb. 

Notably, in the Fall, you rode along at a 9-hole par 35 course and played two of the par 3 holes. Grandpa Gary even let you drive the golf cart for a bit! While you did get the ball in the hole, there was a lot of swinging and missing. You may have made a 15 on a 75-yard hole after hitting your tee shot 65 yards over a water hazard! So, we kept practicing and you got a fuller set of clubs for Christmas (driver, hybrid, 5, 7, 9, your first wedge, and a mallet putter) in addition to a golf bag being your ornament. Then, on President’s Day, you played all 9 holes on that same course! I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here or in other letters, but I love spending time with you and golf gives us the perfect excuse to do just that. And, for now, we both like playing. It’s just so great, Ellie. I hope this keeps up, and I promise to try not to make you keep doing if it stops being fun for you. 

Kind. This one is a bit tricker to detail, but anyone who knows you would say it’s true. You compliment strangers and always tell them you like their dogs. You are always patient and loving with Ruthie. At EJ’s games, you almost always play with the younger siblings and are so sweet with them. As a Juliet Girl Scout, you get to access what would be the troop proceeds from your cookie sales, which is over $500, to pay dues and event registration fees, etc. You asked if you could use it to donate toys to Wolfson’s Children’s Hospital, which we’re working on helping you do. You are also very aware of who is listening to you answer questions, and never fall for ones like “Who is your favorite parent?” And, Ellie, you are still a great hugger. You never just go through the motions, almost always giving a sincere two-handed squeeze with your eyes closed. You’ve also started holding my hands at the end of our before bed hugs for an extra squeeze and eye contact, which is just the sweetest.

Ellie, I said it earlier, but it’s the absolute truth: Even if you weren’t any of the things I said in this letter, I couldn’t love you any more or any less. I simply can’t explain how happy I am to have a daughter, and for that daughter to be you. I knew it the day you were born and we had our first of countless moments in the hospital room. As excited as I am about your young successes, the way you’ve handled struggles, and the ‘tween’ you are becoming, nothing you do or fail to do could ever change the way I felt about you on your birthday, and feel about you now. I am so happy to be kicking off another decade with you and am so looking forward to helping you make sense of the world and figure out what you love to do (even if it doesn’t end up involving math, science, or golf). 

Happy birthday! 

I love you always,

Daddy

Dear Ellie - Nine Years

 My dear Ellie,

Happy ninth birthday, lovebug! The day is finally here! You've been eagerly awaiting this day for weeks, counting down and giving your classmates daily updates as to how close it really is to your birthday.

How do I know you that you give your classmates daily updates? I know because you "attend" school via laptop in our dining room, and oh, child, what a year it has been since my last letter. When I last wrote to you, we were two weeks into our "safer at home" strategy for dealing with covid-19, the novel coronavirus that spread across the world rapidly and relentlessly. What was originally planned to be a two-week self-imposed quarantine to "slow the spread" has now ballooned to 55 weeks and counting for us. Not long after your birthday last year, school was canceled for the remainder of the year and lockdowns extended out past that initial two-week estimate. People protested their confinement and by May, things started to open back up again, but virus numbers skyrocketed by late summer, so our family continued to stay safe at home. Schools reopened in the fall with both a virtual and an in-person option, which included myriad safety protocols such as six-feet spacing between and plexiglass barriers around desks, mandatory mask-wearing, lunch in classrooms instead of the cafeteria, and daily temperature checks. We opted for the virtual school option, both for our own well-being and to do our part to keep class sizes smaller for kids who really need to be back in the school building. We set up a little school room in the corner of our dining room, complete with desks and a calendar and all the school supplies you could need, and you and E.J. have really done well with it.

We have not yet been back to church; we are preparing to watch our second Easter Sunday service on YouTube. You still attend Girl Scouts, but virtually - I lead a virtual component of our troop, while the rest of the girls meet in person. You are not doing ballet this year, and your recital from last year was canceled entirely. We have only seen a few family members at all this year, and those visits have been exceedingly rare, taking place only after a strict 14-day quarantine to minimize our risk of unknowingly bringing the virus to each other. Each holiday has been spent with only our immediate family, and each has looked different: we did our own Easter egg hunt in our backyard; we didn't go watch the July 4th fireworks at the river; we barely trick-or-treated on Halloween; we had a video call with Santa instead of an in-person meeting. We have worked really hard to figure out new ways to celebrate and make things special when our old traditions just aren't feasible.

We didn't travel at all this year; there was no family reunion to attend this summer (sadly, we lost our Gramps this year, too, and have yet to be able to travel for a funeral). There were no school events or awards or performances. Our overly busy weekends are a thing of the past, and many of our previous pastimes came to an abrupt halt: our Disney passes lapsed, the Jumbo Shrimp season was canceled, we no longer had Saturdays at the t-ball field. Our outings and entertainment for the past year have mostly consisted of walks, movies on our new outdoor projector, frequent trips to the beach, watching new TV series together and reading "Harry Potter." When we do have to venture out, we wear masks (they were mandated in our area up until last week, but many businesses still require them), and we scrub our hands well when we get home.

I'll admit, I've had some trouble coming to terms with your impending birthday this year. Last year, my heart broke for you that so many of your big birthday plans were thwarted by this virus, and it has been hard to stomach the realization that the same could be said of this year (though I think we've come up with fun ideas to make it special!). Your birthday is so closely linked to the anniversary of this thing in my mind, and I had so wanted this to all be over by the time you were nine. It's easy to look back at the last year and think of it as a "lost year": so many of the things we always held dear to our hearts were canceled or put on hold indefinitely. You only have so many years of childhood, and at times it has felt like this one was just "passing us by."

But, it wasn't a lost year. It was a year for us. For our family. Day in and day out, we've been together. We've found new things to do together and creative ways to have fun at home. I've been able to have a front row seat to your day-to-day schooling - I hear you talking to your classmates, asking questions, working hard. You and E.J. have so much more time to just play now, and you make good use of it! It has been so wonderful to have you more to myself than I have in years, to know exactly how your day goes and what you're doing and what you're thinking and feeling, something I thought was long gone since you started school. It also feels like almost an extra year of childhood, in a way - a year with no drama with friends, no (new) crushes, no peers spoiling childhood magic for you. It has been a rare gift that isn't given to most parents. It feels like borrowed time...or bonus time, maybe. It is actually really kind of special.

And Ellie Bellie, you're growing into such a lovely young woman. You are thoughtful and sweet and empathetic. You are almost overly kindhearted! You can't tolerate being in trouble; if you think we're even looking at or talking to you too sternly, you crumble. I know that I can trust you completely, because rather than ever lie to us, if confronted with something you'd rather not say your whole body slumps over and your face goes sullen, and out comes the truth. You often ask what you can do to help me around the house, and you're always thinking of sweet things to do for people you love and how to make it special just for them. For example, you made Heather and Matty bracelets--with a cat charm and Dallas Cowboys colors, respectively--for no reason, and moved them to tears when they were surprised by them in their mailbox!

You've taken to virtual school without missing a beat. You have the same teacher as last year, which may have helped, but I am able to just let you do your thing all day with minimal oversight. You follow your schedule, do your work, and often even set your own alarms on your watch to make sure you're back to live video classes on time. You still love math, and your teacher has selected you and a couple of other kids to do some extra math work, which thrills you. (You're starting that this week, and you were so tickled that you'd get extra math for your birthday week! What a gift!) You're doing great with multiplication and fractions, and I'm very impressed by you.

You also still love science, and we've been getting our fill of science activities through online Girl Scouts workshops. One positive of the pandemic has been that Girl Scout councils/organizations from across the country have been offering programming that we are able to take advantage of, regardless of our location! Your Brownie vest is completely filled up with patches and badges and you've done some really cool things. You even attended a virtual Girl Scouts summer camp last June, where you earned three coding badges, tie-dyed your own camp shirt and even made s'mores in the microwave and sang camp songs around the computer with your fellow campers. People have really impressed me with their ingenuity in finding ways to translate normal activities to a virtual format! You also sold Girl Scout cookies again this year and once again, you were the top seller in your troop. You're highly motivated and willing to work hard to reach your goals. You amaze me.

You still love to read, though that sort of tapered off for a while since we were not able to go to the library to get new material. I think your favorite thing to read this year has probably been the "Harry Potter" books. We've been reading them together as a family (we're on the fifth book now!), and as soon as we finish reading one together, you claim it for yourself and re-read the whole thing on your own, often in only a couple days' time. 

You overcame a couple of significant fears this year: you learned to ride your bike last year on Easter Sunday, and you changed your earrings for the first time about a month ago! In true Ellie fashion, in each case you just decided you were going to do it and you did it. When you decided to learn to ride your bike, you worked hard, practicing your balance and pedaling up and down the sidewalk until it finally clicked. With your earrings, you talked yourself into a plan of action, and when your nerves started to overcome you, you gave yourself a pep talk: "I can do this. I'm going to do this." And you did! And in both cases, once you accomplished this task that you had perceived as impossible for so long, you felt so incredible. You'd just talk about it for days and days and days - you were so proud of yourself, and we were so proud of you, too. I can't even tell you how much joy it brings me to see you overcome a mental hurdle like that and do something that you really want, even if you're afraid. I hope you remember that high you felt afterwards and it propels you forward to many new, exciting experiences as you grow!

You're just growing up so much, and I see it every day. I see it in your outward appearance (I mean, could you possibly be any taller????), and in your behaviors. You're showing more confidence, and you're more willing to try new things. You're becoming more and more helpful around the house (and willingly, too!) - you can change your bedsheets, make all your meals, clean your room, do the dusting. You're motivated to do well and willing to put in the work to do so, such as just last week when you worked hard every day after school to learn a dance for Palm Sunday church. At first you thought it was too hard and you wouldn't be able to do it, but we worked out a plan of attack together and you implemented it without any help and before long, you knew that dance perfectly. (We recorded it on video that was played at the service, which was so nice that you could still participate even if we aren't attending in-person church yet!)

One big, exciting thing from this year: we got a new puppy named Ruthie! You just adore her and vice versa. You can hardly contain yourself when you see her, and you launch right into lovey-dovey talk as you fuss over her. You're a big help with her, too! You get her out of her crate in the morning, feed her breakfast and let her go outside. When she shreds sticks in the house, you help clean up the mess. You help clean the...uh...mess in the backyard, too! You put her leash on when it's time to walk, and sometimes you walk her, too. I'm so glad she has been such a wonderful addition to our family! She's a real perk of this pandemic for sure - without this disruption to our normally very busy schedule, we probably wouldn't have considered getting a dog. We're very lucky to have her!

Some more about Ellie-at-nine-years-old: you and E.J. are still very into Legos, and you play for hours at your Lego table. You also love to draw and do crafts (you tried your hand at cross-stitch this year!). Your favorite color is pink - dark pink, not light! You love long dresses and rompers. Your favorite book is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and your favorite TV shows include Magic School Bus and Emily's Wonder Lab. You were very excited when President Joe Biden was elected this year, because you met him in Hoboken when you were a baby, so now you can say you've met the President. You're incredibly responsible and trustworthy. You love unicorns. Your hair was both purple and pink at various times this year, and after growing it long for some time you decided last week to cut it short again. You still sleep with Cupcake, and I often have to remind you to remove the piles and piles of books that end up in your bed. You love to "mother" E.J., sometimes taking it a bit far, but I know it's done with love. You like to tuck your shirts into your leggings. You're happy and bubbly. You crinkle your nose when you smile if you really like something. You stick your tongue out when you're concentrating hard (still - you've done that since you were very small!). You say "hi" whenever we walk into a room (or rather, as soon as you hear us coming; you rarely wait for us to actually enter the room), and sometimes you tell us "I want us to be talking but I just don't know what to talk about." You've coped well with our isolation overall, but you're still a social being at heart, and you get excited when people come to our house - ANY people, including the exterminator, realtor and contractor.  When the little old lady who lives down the street had to put her dog to sleep, you wrote a letter to her telling her how sorry you were and left it in her mailbox. You pray to yourself every night, even after we've prayed together as a family. You still sometimes just need a "mama hug." And I always need an Ellie hug.

I just love you so much. 

And now, you're another year older. And truly, this was quite the year to live through, kiddo. Living through a pandemic like this is an unthinkably rare thing (thank heavens!), but there has been so much else going on all around us, too. You'll learn about it in your history books someday, and I think we've kept you pretty shielded from some of the other events of this year. But in all honesty, it has been a challenging one for me in a lot of ways. But you, my girl, have always been a bright spot. You are my motivation to keep working and fighting and brainstorming and innovating. When I feel like I've hit a wall, like I've given it everything I have, like I am just fully depleted, you fill me up again and somehow give me the strength and the energy to wake up and do it all once more. I just want so badly to make each of your days as special as you deserve, which is a terribly high bar but I'm doing my very best.

The coming year still holds a lot of uncertainty for us. It feels like we're on our way out of the pandemic, as more and more people are being vaccinated (Daddy and I will be eligible for ours next week!), and case numbers are staying much lower than they once were. But still, we can't quite predict when there will be a vaccine for kids, how things will look in the fall, or when we can really let our guard down. We also have some uncertainty on the horizon for our family specifically - perhaps I'll be writing your next letter from a new home? No matter what happens, I assume you'll handle it in stride in true Ellie style. 

Ellie, being your mom is such a privilege. I'm so enamored with the young woman you are becoming, just as I have always adored the little girl you were. I hope you know how much I treasure you, and I hope that as you grow you will continue to see me a safe space, a support system, and your biggest fan. Because I totally am. (I'll bet Daddy thinks he is, but I respectfully disagree.)

Thanks for being you, baby girl. You're amazing.

Happy ninth birthday! I love you all the much.

All my love,

Mama

* * * * *

My dear Ellie,

I love you so much. I have been trying to think of a way to explain how much I adore you and how happy you make me to be your dad. If there’s a good word, I don’t know it. The best I can do is to think of a feeling. It’s kinda like when you are sitting down to watch a movie you have been looking forward to for months, when you realize a book you are really enjoying is part of a series, or relaxing on the second day of a long vacation. It’s a happy/peaceful/content feeling where you can’t think about other than how lucky and grateful you are to be where you are. It’s not every minute of every day, to be sure, but it is the best way I can explain what I feel when I sit down and think about it. 

You are so excited to be turning nine (you can’t believe it’s your last year in single digits!). I am so happy for you to have a day (days, really, with the family party and camping) to be celebrated, but I am having a tough time realizing that you are halfway to being on your own. That’s still a lot of time, but I am bracing myself for the fact that the next nine will be less cuddly than the first nine. I also worry about mean kids, bad boyfriends, and other disappointments. Nine means we are getting closer to those things, but I know we aren’t there yet.

It’s just so crazy that you are now having your second pandemic birthday. I thought about including a table of differences and events of the past year, but decided that was too nerdy. I probably buckled a bit under the pressure it would add to include everything. But, for example’s sake, we just completed a whole year of virtual school and girl scouts, with facemasks required for the rare occasions we’ve seen other people or gone in places. And, boy, have we covered miles and miles of walks to get out of the house. On the other end, we have gone without Disney trips, in-person church and activities, eating on-site at restaurants, far fewer family visits and all non-family hugs. It has been very different, with so many challenges. But I don’t think that is what you are going to take from this experience. Your Mama has worked so hard to make things special. We went all out on yard decor for Halloween in lieu of trick-or-treating, she planned egg hunts at home, got a projector for backyard movies, and a climbing gym for the backyard. We started watching tv shows together (The Mandalorian and Clone Wars, Emily’s Wonder Lab, and Lego Masters). We got a puppy and let you guys start playing video games. I learned to do magic, and taught you and EJ how to play blackjack, poker and chess. It’s too early to distill a grand, unified lesson of the pandemic, but I think you can choose how to spend your energy, and there is good to be found in everything. 

I really didn’t mean to write you another letter where I make lists in every other sentence, so I will try to tell three more stories.

The first is about how proud I am of the way you have pushed yourself this year. As you were turning eight, you were committed to learning to ride a bike. We had tried without much success in the past, but you mastered the scooter and really took notice whenever you saw someone you knew riding a bike. At some point, you decided you were going to figure it out. I tried holding the back of the seat, and we planned out how to push off and glide, then to put your feet on the pedals during the glide, then pedal one loop, etc. You spent an hour at a time for days by yourself trying over and over again until you mastered each step. Just like when you were younger, obstacles are nothing compared to your will and determination. You are undefeated when you decide something is going to happen. On Easter Sunday, you put it together and successfully rode around a nearby parking lot and were beside yourself excited. You did the same thing later in the year when you decided you would finally change your earrings 18 months after getting them pierced. You succeeded and changed them several times a day for the first few days. Similarly, you have also decided this year that you would try new foods and have discovered so many new things you enjoy, like BBQ and cheeseburgers from places other than McDonald’s. The other day, you tried a roasted sweet potato and loved it so much that it’s going to be a part of your birthday dinner, with tacos, of course!

The second story has to do with how impressed I am by your interest in new things. Without traditional extracurricular activities, like dance, your Mama and I tried to give you and EJ as much of a well-rounded experience as possible. We offered you a suite of options and you choose piano and golf. Mama started teaching you the basics of piano after you picked up the happy birthday song and a short classical piece during Bairdcation at Papa’s. I don’t know all the specifics of what you did, but I do know that you taught yourself how to play my favorite Christmas carol, "The First Noel", by ear using trial and error. I hope we find a way to help you keep learning if that’s something you want to do, but, if not, you should know that you showed some aptitude for it. Speaking of aptitude, I loved taking you and EJ for golf practice. We always pick out a snack, share a bucket of balls, and putt. I’ve tried to be really light on instruction, just letting you both build some coordination and have some fun. You hit some really well each time and get so excited. You also get uncharacteristically confident. You tell me and EJ to “watch how it’s done” before you hit, and say that “golf is your sport” and you are even considering it as a career option (along with astronaut and pediatrician).

Finally, I can’t possibly tell the story of your year without talking about reading. You’re still a math and science girl (for example, you just took a pie day girl scout class and took it upon yourself to memorize 14 digits!), but boy do you love to read. And our family reading time has become an obsession! Speaking of finding the good in things, the pandemic is what brought this on. Essentially, at the onset, a lot of artists and organizations made new content available virtually. Concerts, museums, NASA camps, and movies direct to streaming, including Hamilton, which has been a huge hit. One such artist was J.K. Rowling, who offered to share her first young adult book since Harry Potter for free, a few chapters at a time. You guys loved the two months we spent on The Ickabog so much that we decided to give Harry Potter a chance. Kid, it’s been a hit. I believe your five favorite books are, in order, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Prisoner of Azkaban, Chamber of Secrets, Sorcerer’s Stone, and The Ickabog. Can you guess which book we are reading now? I love so much that we have been able to read them together. I do most of the reading, voicing close to 40 characters over the first four books. I love to do it because you guys remember which voice is which and get so excited when you know who is talking before the book says it. But, I said it was a family affair and it really is! You handle the dialogue for 15 or so characters by my last count, including Hermoine, Professors Flitwich, Sprout and Grubby-Plank, and Tonks. Most are pretty close to your usual voice, but sometimes you throw in an amazing British accents. Mama has taken on some pretty important ones, like Dobby, Professor Umbridge and Moaning Myrtle, and EJ does a great job with Dudley and Neville Longbottom, though he would love to be responsible for the Malfoys. Whenever we finish a book, Mama sets up some sort of party with themed snacks and attire, and we watch the movie together. You also re-read the book immediately in under three days. 

Kiddo, I really don’t know how to sum up such a crazy year, but I hope I’ve shared some thoughts you are interested in reading. I have loved watching you grow these first nine years and am so excited for you because the best is yet to come. Happy birthday, Belle. 

I love you so very much,

Daddy.

Dear Ellie - Eight Years

My dear Ellie,

Today is your eighth birthday, and what an interesting day it is. I know I usually start my letters with some exclamations of wonderment that you are getting so old - and I'll get to that, I'm sure. But right now there are things going on in the world that have eclipsed every part of our everyday life, and I feel I can't go forward with my reflections on your past year without first addressing our present situation.

Right now, we are in the middle of "social distancing." There is a global pandemic, a novel coronavirus, making its way through the world. It is highly contagious and easily spread. For most people, it's like a flu, but for many, it can be very serious and hospitals are being overwhelmed by people who need care. Our society has opted for social distancing as a way to "flatten the curve," to slow down the spread of this illness in the hopes that our medical workers and hospitals will be able to keep up. That means that for the past two weeks, we have essentially been quarantined in our own home. Schools are canceled - for now, until April 15th, but we suspect it will be much longer. You and E.J. are doing "distance learning" online instead. Many people are working from home (Daddy already does, so that's not different for us!). The church is closed, and we watch the services on YouTube now (and that is how we'll be celebrating Easter this year). Stores are closed, many restaurants are closed, doctors are canceling any non-essential visits. The restaurants that are open are open only for take-out or delivery. The grocery stores are open, but filled with people wearing gloves and masks and scrounging for whatever they can find on the shelves - people panicked early and started hoarding food and necessities (in particular, toilet paper!) so now it's hard to find the groceries you need, and when you do, they are rationed to prevent further stockpiling. For the past two weeks, we have left our house for only two reasons: to pick up necessary groceries as much as we are able (after which we sanitize them outside of the house before bringing them in), and to walk in the evenings (people have been making rainbow chalk drawings on their sidewalks, so we go hunting rainbows!). Nobody knows when this will end, either, so we're looking towards summer and wondering how many more of our plans will be canceled and how long this will be our reality. It's a very strange, very surreal time. It's historic, and I can't help but wonder how you will remember this time as you grow up.

Needless to say, all this means you are not having the birthday you planned for. We did manage to squeeze in your biggest birthday request before we went into isolation: you asked to go to Kennedy Space Center for a few days, to include a day at the beach and a rocket launch. We managed to do that over spring break and it was a wonderful little mini family vacation (even though the launch was aborted mid-countdown!). Of course, we left on Sunday and as of Monday the Space Center closed indefinitely, so we really just barely made it and have been on lockdown since we got home. But, you described that little trip as the "best weekend ever" so I'm so glad we were able to make it happen for you! It's such a happy memory from right before everything went crazy.

But, we also had some great surprises planned for you for your actual birthday (Disney-related, but Disney World is also closed indefinitely), and you had hoped to have your first sleepover party with a few friends next weekend. You have really handled all this craziness remarkably well, but earlier this week it hit you that you would not be able to celebrate with any friends or family on your birthday, or even go anywhere fun, not even a playground. This hit you hard - you are my social butterfly! My hugger! You are KNOWN for your hugs. Just the other day your first grade teacher even commented on how she had been sick and hadn't been able to hug you for a week and it was torture. I know it's hard for you to not be around your friends and all the people at school and church that you love. In a journal entry this week, you said that you wish you could do homeschool with your friends, and when trapped at home for "like a month" you feel "sad and scwushed" (squished). I hate that you have to feel any kind of sadness or disappointment because of this whole ordeal!

So, on your birthday this year, we're doing our best to make it special for you. We're getting takeout from Metro Diner, one of your favorite restaurants ("best grilled cheese ever!"). You requested salmon for dinner - something new that you like! And of course, we'll have cake and presents. And, as a surprise, I've organized a drive-by parade for you in the afternoon. Many of your friends will be driving past our house at 2:00 pm to wish you a happy birthday from the safety of their cars. I was so touched at the response to my request for help with this - everybody is very excited to come. It warms my heart to see how much you are loved! Of course, I know that you are a very special girl, but it is always wonderful to see that other people appreciate that, too. You are VERY loved, my girl. Very loved and very special.

This year has been another impressive one for you. You're doing very well in second grade, but that is no surprise. You're a reading machine, and you read novels now. You've even started digging into the American Girl books, which were always a favorite of mine, so that makes me very happy! You love your teachers (and they, you!) and still love science and math. You're also really enjoying your gifted class this year, and I think they're doing a good job of challenging your thinking and teaching you new strategies for problem-solving. You seem to enjoy having E.J. at school with you this year, too, and you walk him to class every morning.

You're still enjoying ballet, and have moved into the Upper School which is a bit more serious. Right now, during social-distancing, your instructor records your lessons and posts them on YouTube for you to do at home, and your first Upper School recital has been postponed until (hopefully) June, which is a bummer. But I enjoyed watching you do your lesson at home this week! You are very graceful, and I was very impressed.

You also joined the Girl Scouts this year and you really enjoy that. I got talked into being a co-leader for your troop, which I'm not sure is my forte, but I love that we have that special thing to do together. We have a good troop of girls, most of whom go to church and/or school with you. We wrapped up our first Girl Scout cookie season just before this quarantine started, and you KILLED IT. You sold over 500 boxes of cookies, which was the most in your troop by a lot (the girl in second place trailed you by about 200 boxes!). You worked really hard and I was just so impressed by you. You walked around town with your wagon full of cookies, worked a booth, and went table-to-table at church Wednesday night dinner to sell cookies. You worked so hard to earn money to pay for a campout at the Jacksonville Zoo in the tiger exhibit, but sadly, that will likely be canceled because of coronavirus. I hate that you won't get the reward you worked so hard for, but knowing you, you'll take it in stride. Which is fine, of course - I'll be plenty disappointed on your behalf.

This year we took a big road trip, as we do every year, but this one included a stop in New York City and Ellie, what a delight it was to be back there with you! We showed you where we lived, took you to all our favorite cupcake places, and even took you out to Hoboken to show you the riverfront where I walked with you endlesslessly when you were a grumpy little infant who just wanted the bumpy bricks to lull her to sleep. You loved the city, and you and I shared a really special night together - while the boys went to a Mets game, you and I went out to dinner (at Junior's, where you tried your first cheesecake!) and then saw Wicked on Broadway. You loved it and I can't even describe to you how much I loved watching you love it. I love it all, too, so much, and to share that with you was something so precious to me. It was a night I will never forget. Thank you for sharing it with me, and I know it won't be our last night out together in New York. I can hardly wait to take you back!

In other exciting news, you've been facing fears left and right this year! For instance, this summer at Papa's house, you learned how to swim underwater! We had hoped it would happen the summer prior but you were NOT having it. This summer, though, it clicked, and now you LOVE the water. During your birthday celebration at the Space Center, you tried a boogey board on our beach day and loved that, too! Also, you got your ears pierced this year! You decided you really wanted it and you did it, and you were so proud of yourself (and I was proud of you, too!). You also faced your fears and rode Space Mountain for the first time, and now claim it is your favorite ride. Also, after taking a little hiatus from monkey bars, you are back at it and rocking it. And, just since we've been quarantined, you've started learning how to roller-skate and today you gave your bike a try without training wheels for the first time. I think the coming year will be a big one for you, at this rate!

What else can I say about eight-year-old Ellie? Your favorite movies right now are Frozen II and the live-action Aladdin movie. You love Xavier Riddle and the Secret Museum on PBS, The Who Was Show and Ms. Julie's Greenroom. You still love to dance, and the Frozen II soundtrack has been a staple around here for the past few months. You also still love crafty things, and this year you got into making little rubber band bracelets. They were all the rage at school, so we got you a kit for Valentine's Day and you've been a bracelet-making machine. Speaking of Valentine's Day, you still have a little crush on a boy, and are still willing to talk to me about it, so I love that (I pray you always feel comfortable talking to me about people who are important to you!). On Valentine's Day you even went up to him and told him that you thought he was handsome and smart and funny, and wow! Did I ever admire you for that! I hope you are always so bold and outspoken with your feelings. What an admirable quality!

You still love bunnies, and you wish we could have a pet. You had a relapse of sadness over Achilles recently, which led to the declaration of Achilles Day, complete with a dog movie (Lady and the Tramp), pizza dinner (Achilles loved pizza), and a decorated picture frame in his memory. Your favorite food is still ziti and meatballs, though you've gotten so much better about trying new things (hence, the salmon for dinner!). You have backed off of the astronaut talk a little, now leaning more towards being a doctor (maybe a pediatrician). As I mentioned, you're a hugger. You often come up to us out of the blue and say "huggy?" when you want a hug, and we are happy to oblige. You often also give "sneak attack" hugs - you'll run up to someone and wrap your arms around them before they even realize you're there. It's very dear!

You and E.J. (mostly) play well together, though you do have your squabbles. You are both really into Legos right now, and you had been saving your money for a very realistic babydoll for a long time, until I gave you one that I had as a child and that seems to have satisfied you. You dress her and carry her around and push her in an old stroller when we go on walks. Your freckles are getting darker since our time at the beach and they're just the cutest. You wanted to grow your hair long this year. You're done losing teeth for a while. You cried when it was announced that our pastor was leaving the church, but have also accepted our new one readily and with hugs and homemade gifts. At family reunions, you pay special attention to Gramps and he adores you. You love God, and you read your Bible or devotionals every night before bed. You just completed your first needlepoint, and are giving it to Aunt Heather as a birthday gift. You love technology, and are thrilled that you get to do your school lessons on our new iPad (and you really work it well!). You ask a lot of questions, love to explain things, and are diligent with your schoolwork (especially now as you do it at home!). When you get in trouble for something (a rarity), you take it hard, often lamenting that you are "not the best girl in the world." Go easy on yourself, kiddo! Because, 1) you are, and 2) it doesn't matter - we love you all the much no matter what.

Ellie, you're a special kiddo, and you deserve the best in every way. All I want is to make everything as perfect for you as possible. So I'm having a little trouble with this letter, both with reflecting on where we've been in your eight years (the news has occupied my thoughts for weeks, hardly allowing time for memories and reflection), as well as thinking ahead to what's coming next. Because really, we don't know what's coming next. Not economically, not socially - there's so many big, significant question marks on the horizon. This virus has everyone rattled, and I fear it's really just getting started. I don't know how long we'll be living life like this, and even more so, I don't know what the world will look like when we're done. Every aspect of life feels very uncertain now, and we're just taking it day by day and praying for the best.

I know that all I can do right now is try to remain steady for you, to hold my fears in tight to not worry you needlessly, to protect you as best I can and try to make this whole experience a positive memory for you. I hope that when we come out of this you will only remember all the time we spent together, your birthday parade, our All Day Movie Day, doing art together, drawing rainbows on our sidewalk, reading books outside in the shade, worshipping together while cuddled up on the couch, playing hopscotch at lunchtime, sleeping in and making s'mores at night. I hope I'm able to make this a happy time for you, to turn something stressful into something special that you will remember fondly. I'm doing my best and I hope we all can maintain our patience with each other in pursuit of that goal.

I love you, Ellie. No matter what uncertainty is happening outside the door of our home, that is one constant that you can always count on. I love you and I always will, no matter what.

I just love you so much, bug.

All my love,
Mama

* * * * *

My dear Ellie,

Here we go again - another letter. But, also, another whole year older for you, and this time you're eight! Birthdays are a big deal for kids, and your Mama and I are trying to make it as special as we can. But we are in fairly uncharted territory as a planet, and that is forcing us to be a little creative. I hope it's obvious what I'm talking about when you read this because it actually ended and was just a crazy, once-in-several-generations event. But it has only been two weeks and I don't know. I read something interesting this week about the futility of using the present to plan for the future, and, boy, does that feel true. Three weeks ago, it would have been laughable to suggest the ENTIRE COUNTRY would be confined to their homes and that professional sports would be shut down indefinitely. And, yet, here we are. There are probably important lessons about slowing down to appreciate our health and the freedoms we simply take for granted, or the fact that for all our technological advances, we are still no match for nature. I'm just not sure yet.

But, I digress. This letter isn't about the world, but about one of my absolute favorite people in it - you. One of the things I've wondered about is whether to actually write to you now or keep thinking about the you I don't know know yet. It's tricky this year because you're old enough to read fluently. You do it all the time, especially nonfiction, Magic Treehouse and American Girl chapter books. When we read together at night, you always get to play a character or two, except now you can follow along on your own (I don't have to whisper your lines to you anymore) and you're getting pretty good at using inflection and doing different voices when you have more than one part. I can't tell you how much I love reading with you and your brother just about every night. You are super-cuddly, which is not always the most physically comfortable thing for me, but I will never say anything about it. Whoops. I seem to be digressing again, but I think it counts because I should have found a place to mention all this anyway. What I am trying to say is that I could probably write to you now, not just because you can actually read it, but because you are getting old enough to really start to consider the wider world and your place in it. But as I think about it, I'm not going to. I think my job is to be the best dad I can be every day, reflect and try to do better. These letters are more for posterity so we can look back and see what we got right. Or, maybe they are to help me remember the things that feel unforgettable but get forgotten because you never know what's next. Or, maybe, hopefully, you'll be interested or curious. These are a lot of work!

Seeing as I'm committed to writing to the you of someday, and I don't know what you'll be like, I am a little nervous. What will you want or need to hear? Will you just roll your eyes if it feels too over-the-top or sappy? Part of my wondering is that now that you are eight, I know you are that much closer to big feelings. It seems like I have encountered a lot of parents of middle and high school girls this year who sound like they are dealing with quite a challenge. I hope we are able to navigate those years okay. So far, so good for us, but you never know. As I hope is still true, or that you at least know from past letters, you and I are actually better than good. Whenever I describe my kids to people, I always try to share some details like how much I love coaching EJ and how much he loves baseball and that he's really good. But for you, I always start by literally saying "my daughter Ellie is perfect." Obviously no one is actually perfect, but it's kinda funny because when you get down on yourself, you sometimes say it's because you feel like you aren't the best girl in the world. I love that you have high standards, but whoa! Really, though, no one needs you to be the best girl in the world, even if you just might be. I hope you will always do your best, of course, but what I really mean is that perfect is the word that comes to mind when I think about how much I love being your dad. You're so loving, smart, curious, outgoing, thoughtful and polite, and pretty much, more than any father could ask for in a kid.

I feel like I need to also mention one of the things we haven't really figured out: how to help you with your anxiety. You've always been on the strong-willed side, but this year you seemed to ramp up the ways your brain can get you stuck. And to be totally honest, I really don't' know the best way to help. No matter how calmly I have tried, I have not been able to ease you into changing your mind about doing something on the spot. When we can't physically force you to do it (like new rides) our only option is for you to decide on your own that you're going to do it. For example, you got your ears pierced this year! But then six weeks later had an hours-long ordeal when we tried to change them. It has now been six months and you haven't touched anything from your growing earring collection. Running has also been a bit of an adventure. After following up your 11:00 minute mile with an 18-minute debacle at Disney, I ran with you and we finished in 10:23! Then, in December, I tried to run with you and EJ and told you that you could go ahead if you wanted to. Well, EJ flew off the start line and you got trapped behind other people. You didn't panic, caught up to us and flew by to finish in 9 minutes flat! Then, when we trained in the Spring for your first 5k, you had all kinds of problems in our first 2-mile training run - you stopped to complain about a sore back, legs and then nearly hyperventilated out of nowhere down the stretch. I saw up close what must have happened at Disney and then happened again at a Girl Scout race in February where you stopped to walk 50 yards into the race because your legs hurt. You get yourself nervous and then it manifests in some way and then that's it. But when it doesn't, you have a real skill. It's so frustrating to not know how to help, but I promise to keep reading about it and trying.

I'm sorry I used so many words to talk about running. The anxiety is such a big thing, but it is still mostly infrequent and by no means defines you for this year. You are, or at least you were until the world shut down, having another great year in school, still love math and science, and you have thrived in gifted class. We went on more dates and continue to dance to "A Whole New World" - fueled by a new Aladdin movie this year that was everything until Frozen II came out. You saw your first Broadway show and we did some more golfing and played baseball and football and all kinds of other games in the yard. You are interested in soccer, but have too many extracurriculars already, and you really LOVE swimming.

My dear Ellie, I know I have talked about the unfairness of writing a letter to you on one day that is meant to reflect on your progress over a whole year. The reality is that it has never really worked out to build it throughout the year. It is really a snapshot of you at the moment you move from one year to the next. And the moment we are in now is just so different than any one that anyone can remember, and that has to be coloring what has ended up here. So far, though, you don't seem to grasp the enormity of the situation, and you shouldn't, but it is definitely impacting you. I'm sure Mama will mention "sad and squished" and your birthday, itself, will just be us. I hope we get back to normal soon and that you have many more chances to sleep over with your friends and go out and be celebrated properly. For now, we will do the best we can and be grateful that we have a decent group of people to spend the quarantine, and life, with.

I love you so, so much,
Daddy

Dear Ellie - Seven Years

My dear Ellie,

Child. You're seven. Who approved this? Who allowed this to happen? Remember when you were smaller than that stuffed alligator you're holding in your yearly photo? You were tiny and squishy and often grumpy, and we spent our days snuggled together trying to figure out the whole mother-daughter thing together. We walked and played and napped and cried and cuddled. And then you went and grew up on me. You're still as special as ever....you're just much bigger.

You are in first grade now and you are KILLING IT. You have two wonderful teachers and you are just thriving. Your reading has taken off and you are now reading at a third grade level. We've started reading chapter books together (Beezus and Ramona - you find Beezus, the sensible older sister to a wild, trouble-making little sibling, very relatable!) and you're really starting to take the initiative to actually read books on your own, instead of just looking at the pictures. You're doing great in math, as well, and math and science continue to be your favorite subjects. As of yesterday, you also have officially been admitted into the gifted program at your school, and I'm really hopeful that it will challenge you and help you grow even more!

I loved sitting in the meeting about your gifted program admission yesterday and hearing the glowing things your teacher had to say about you. I mean, I know all these great things are true, but it really makes me puff up with pride when other people notice them, too. You excel not only academically in school, but also as a leader and a friend. In fact, you were chosen as the very first recipient of your class's "Leader in Action" award in the first two weeks of the school year, and you were recognized at a school-wide assembly. You are well-liked by your peers because you are kind, thoughtful and sweet. You care very much about others and are very affectionate (you ran up and gave the crossing guard a huge hug today, just because). You have a way of making people feel very special.

As you're getting older, your extracurricular activities have continued to increase in number. You're still doing ballet (very beautifully and gracefully, I may add), plus worship dance and choir at church. You're in the Children's Choir now (a bump up from the Littlest Angels), which means you're putting on a musical at the end of this school year (in which you have both a singing feature and a speaking part), and you flawlessly read a Bible verse in front of a jam-packed church on Christmas Eve. You are also still going to running club at school, and this year you've added tee-ball to your resume. You saw E.J. play in the fall, and you decided you wanted to give it a try in the spring. You're on a team with E.J., and Daddy is your coach (Go Indians!). I have loved watching how hard you are working at it! You look great out in the field, and you're always up for practicing at home in your free time.

Speaking of motivation and hard work, when you started this school year you set a goal for yourself to learn how to do the monkey bars on your school playground. I watched with great pride as you kept working at it and working at it (with the blisters to prove it!) until you finally did it! You were so proud, and we were so impressed. Yesterday you also did the other, bigger set of monkey bars for the first time, too. You're really something, kiddo - when you get it in your mind that you're going to do something. YOU DO IT.

This year you also discovered your love for rollercoasters! It was almost exactly a year ago that you went on the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train at Disney World for the first time, after much effort to summon your courage. You said you enjoyed it, though your face in the pictures from the ride indicated otherwise. Yet, you asked to go on it again next time, and you were hooked. Recently, we have added a lot more Disney thrill rides to your resume! For some time it was a bit of a process to get you on a new ride: you would be nervous, but we would make you go anyway, which meant dragging you through the line as you dug your heels in and wailed about how unhappy and nervous you were, drawing stares from everyone else in line as we reassured them we really aren't awful parents, you love it. We would get on the ride with you still crying and squeezing your eyes shut. Then by the time the ride was over, you would be gushing about how much you loved it and begging to go on again. And we did this every. time. we tried a new rollercoaster for the better part of a year. But, on our most recent trip, you tried three new rides and DIDN'T CRY ONCE. We crossed a threshold, here! It's a whole new world! You were so brave and confident and AMAZING. And man, do you love those thrill rides. You get such an adrenaline high! And now you finally got your brain on board with the idea, too. Good for you, kiddo.

You and E.J. are still getting along well! I mean, you do bicker a decent bit, but all siblings do, don't they? You love to play together, and after spending almost every night in the early summer having "sleepovers" in each other's rooms, we shifted around our bedrooms to give you and E.J. a room to share, with bunk beds and everything! And speaking of sleepovers, you had your first real one this year! You and E.J. slept at Sophie's house just last month, and are already planning for the next one.

In other big firsts, you had your first Valentine this year. The day he asked you to be his Valentine, you came bounding out of school with such joy on your face, just talking a mile a minute about how happy this made you. You got your first taste of "love" and I got my first taste of terror that someone could possibly break your heart. I spent the next couple of weeks leading up to Valentine's Day just praying that something didn't go awry with the whole arrangement because you would have been devastated. Phew, boy. I'm not ready to do this for real yet, kiddo. My heart can't take it. Has anyone told you yet that boys have cooties? They totally do. Stay clear!

In some sad news, this year we said goodbye to Achilles. He passed away in November and you and I probably took it the hardest. It happened unexpectedly and I wasn't prepared for how to handle it with you, but we had a nice memorial service for him and I think you're doing okay. You mention missing him sometimes and still pray for him every night, but for the most part, you're okay. I love to see pictures of him with baby you and remember those times; those memories are very dear to me.

As for other notable things about seven-year-old Ellie, you still love music and dancing, and often turn on music yourself with our Amazon Echo so you can dance around the family room. Your favorite TV shows this year have been Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, The Who Was Show, Bill Nye the Science Guy and Ms. Julie's Greenroom. You still say Moana is your favorite movie, but you've been on a huge Mary Poppins kick lately! You love to play outside, and are showing some interest in learning to bike, roller-skate and swim, so maybe this will be a big outdoorsy year for you! You love to do crafty and artistic things, and you love stationery - you will write and mail cards to family without prompting (and it just makes their day to get mail from you!). You still love bunnies and space (you still want to be an astronaut!), the color pink, ziti and meatballs and dates with Daddy. You like to read books in bed with a flashlight before going to sleep. You have lost six teeth so far, with one or two more loose right now. You close your eyes when Alexa turns off the light in your bedroom because it scares you a little. You love to point out the constellation Orion. When we kiss you goodnight you take the kiss off your face and put it on your pillow for safe-keeping (the actual pillow, not the pillowcase, so it won't get washed off). You love to explain things, to figure out how things work, and to operate with a predictable routine. You have precious freckles on your nose, which you crinkle up when you give a big smile (just like you did as a baby!). I'd say all around, you're a pretty awesome kid.

As we kick off this new year of your life, I feel like you're really starting to dip your toes into the water of official Big Kid status, which is both really cool to watch and a little bit heartbreaking. For instance, in last year's letter, I wrote about how I love walking to and from school with you, because you always reach for my hand and tell me all about your day. I still love our walks together, but the hand-holding is becoming less frequent and you often head into school in the mornings without pausing for a hug or kiss for me. Sometimes you don't even remember to wave before you go in the door. I wonder if by next year's letter, you'll be holding my hand on the walk at all? I hate to think of it. Regardless, my hand will always be here if you want it, love.

Some of the less-pretty parts of growing up are starting to peek into your world, too. For example, a month or so ago we were getting to go somewhere and for the first time ever, you opted to change out of the cool (on-theme) costume you had planned to wear because you were scared people would stare at you. I can so vividly picture you standing there in your costume, tears in your eyes, verbalizing that fear to me and as I watched you sadly take it off, my heart broke into a million pieces. I have so loved all these years where you just wore what you wanted and did what made you happy and it never even occurred to you that other people might have opinions about it. I understand how you feel, and I knew it would come, and it still is only a glimmer of something - you still very much love costumes at Disney, or themed dress-up days at school, or what have you - but I know where we're headed and my heart aches that you will feel insecure sometimes, or self-conscious, or like you have to censor yourself. Ellie, you are the only you in the whole world and you are so special. I know it will be increasingly harder to proudly embrace that uniqueness, but I hope you will always remember that God made you perfectly you. I only wish I could make it easier for you to go through all that normal growing-up stuff. I just want to put you in a bubble and protect you from any possible heartache.

You know, Bug, I feel like you and I are partners, in a way - teammates. Seven years ago, you were thrust into a world that was entirely new to you, and so was I. I had never been somebody's mother before, and I only hoped you would afford me the grace I needed as I figured it out. We started out on a journey together, you and me, walking side by side and trying to find our way.

Seven years later, I'm still figuring it out. I'm not sure that will ever stop, really. Between you and E.J., I know that I make countless mistakes every day. Each night I go to bed praying that both you and God will forgive me for my shortcomings and that He will mold me into the mother you need. I think of all the ways I can be better and vow to do exactly that the next day. Yet, each morning I wake up as human and flawed as ever and the cycle repeats. I know what a blessing it is that at this point, my mistakes aren't even a blip on your radar and every day you offer me nothing but unfaltering adoration. I know those days are numbered, and as you get older my flaws will be more and more obvious to you. When that happens I only hope that my efforts will be as visible as my mistakes, that you will not only see my flaws but also how much I love you and how badly I want to be perfect for you. I'm trying, baby. I'm really trying.

Ellie, I love you. You are so precious to me and I am so honored and humbled that God chose me for you. What a blessing it is to be your mother! It's unlike anything I ever could have imagined.

I love you all the much, sweet girl. Happy birthday.

All my love,
Mama

Dear Ellie,

Happy birthday!!! For some reason, this one feels like another of those with the weird parenting time contradiction where your sixth birthday seems like forever ago, when you were so much younger, yet it hardly seems possible that the year passed by so quickly and you are actually seven! I don't even want to think about how old you'll be when you actually read this letter. Actually, seven-year old you just asked me what I was doing while I am typing this and it occurs to me that you have grown so much this year that you could probably read this letter right now. Honestly, first grade has really agreed with you. You've only missed a handful of points total on a 3 quarters of assignments and tests and you actually asked your math teacher for harder problems. Your reading teacher recommended you be screened for gifted and you passed! You will soon begin attending one day per week classes that will continue through at least 5th grade. But doing well in school is not new for you. What is new this year is climbing monkey bars and working through a fear of scary rides - roller coasters are now your favorite! (If Mama's letter doesn't tell this story in more detail, I'll add a footnote later because it's a good one!)

On your beginning of school "About me" poster, you wrote that your two goals were to "get on" all the monkey bars and to be an astronaut. It took some time, but you are doing great with the first goal, though the second one is going take a bit longer. That said, as of this writing, you still want to be an astronaut! You're also interested in being a doctor and sometimes a Mama, but science/math and space are still your primary loves. You read and ask questions about space all the time and you were even Dr. Mae Jemison for your school Halloween book character parade. You've taken an interest in constellations and have gotten very good at spotting Orion and Mars when they are in the sky. This passion helped me justify the cost of a three-foot tall Lego Saturn V rocket set because we built the entire thing together. Recently, we say an Apollo 11 documentary in the theater and you came home and wrote a letter to Buzz Aldrin. During your space unit in school, you actually caught your teacher oversimplifying things. She told the class that there was no gravity in space, and we ended up talking about orbits and underwater. Amazing.

Speaking of amazing, I have to mention how great of a bond we have right now. Goodness, we are buds. I know enough about the world to know that you have to grow up someday and this it means we won't get to spend as much time together, that I won't necessarily be the first person you share good or bad news with, and I definitely won't still be your top choice for a date. Heck, you already had a Valentine who wasn't me. But for now, we are still super close, and I have loved every second of our dates, whether we are running, golfing, going to the movies, or having dinner and dancing (even the one time the power went out in the restaurant). We also play catch now (!) and spend most days playing in the front yard or at playground with EJ, and every night reading and cuddling. Ellie, I can't explain how much I love you, but it's also pretty cool to know that you love me, too. The enthusiasm in your voice when I come downstairs every day is so genuine and so, so precious.

I know I've said it before, but writing these letters can be tricky because I don't exactly know who you'll be when you read (or re-read) them or what you might want or need to hear from me. A lot of things can be true at the same time, and certainly more than will fit into a letter, but as much as I hope they all fit together to tell a meaningful story when you read (or, lets be honest, skim) them all, there isn't any intentional coordination from letter to letter. I don't re-read old ones before writing the new one (so as not to bias my thinking) and I don't even really spread out the writing across multiple days. I also don't do nearly as good of a job keeping track of the whole year as I always hope to because there's just too much good stuff and I never know when you'll grow out of something until it's too late. Even with all those pseudo-short cuts, writing still takes time because, as you will find, life has a way of filling itself with stuff. Every year feels like it is especially busy, and it always actually is, so it would be really easy not to write anything at all. But parenting is the coolest thing in the world and you matter as much as something possibly can, so I'm glad your Mama and I have been able to find time to do this for you. Along those lines, I hope you will be intentional about setting priorities and keeping them clear so you will find a way to make time for the things that matter to you.

Anyway, whatever message(s) you happen to take from these letters, I need you to know that I couldn't possibly love you any more than I do and there isn't a single thing I would change about you. Every single trait, interest and experience of yours combines in just such a way to make you exactly who you are, and that is someone who is perfect and for whom God has a plan. I really hope you understand that, but I also know that, sometimes, it takes a bit more faith than other times, and that it never hurts to be reminded.

Before I go, I am happy to note some of the things I haven't mentioned yet that you dislike: having your foot fall asleep, being cold, the dark and not knowing how to do something really well the first time you do it; and some other things you like: ice cream, pasta, bunnies, ketchup, grilled cheese, explaining things, writing and drawing. See? You're perfect!

All my love,
Daddy