To my brand new seven-year-old on her birthday.

Dear Gracie,

Tonight, at 10:51 p.m. (for you love to know exactly how things work these days), you will turn exactly seven years old. Seven! S-e-v-e-n. Last year I was pretty much blaaaah! about you turning six, but this year I think I’m okay with seven. Know why? It suits you, kiddo. I was trying to pin down the why’s of it this morning, and the best I could come up with is that this past year you have learned how to be much more You. You’re six, but more focused, more refined, more…Gracie-ish. And I have to say – the confidence and the maturity (and yes, still the goofiness) looks fabulous on you, love!

I couldn’t be happier or more proud that you’ve left most of your insecurity behind with your six-year-old self. Have I mentioned your confidence is dazzling? Because, really, it is. School was so much easier for you this year. You really blossomed with your team teachers this year and you love them dearly for teaching you so much of what you crave to know. It makes my heart so happy to see you excited about school instead of literally making your tummy sick over the thought of it like last year. You wanted to invite Mrs. N. and Mrs. D. to your sleepover and didn’t understand why you couldn’t. You complained about having two weeks off for winter break because you wouldn’t get to see Mrs. N. (I think she was secretly happy for the break so she could think up some new things to teach you. You schooled me on capacity and volume the other day, and you’re halfway through the second-grade spelling curriculum. When we applied tape to the end of the yardstick to reach a balloon stuck on top of our cabinets, you told me we made a simple machine. It’s all I can do to keep up with you!

Your confidence has spilled over into your friendships, too. You heard the term “bff” and have declared it your favorite phrase. I hear over and over again how Little A. and Big A. – your besties for years – are your BFFs and how you and Little A. are going to live together when you grow up. I love that you cling so fiercely to “your people” and love that you aren’t afraid to make new friends too. You invited a girl from daycare I’d heard of, but hadn’t met, to your party this year…and left out the fact that she was four years older than you. I didn’t think that she would be interested in attending a 1st-grader’s birthday party, but the thought never occurred to you. Gracie, I hope you never lose that feeling of being where the parties at, being “TOO” cool as you would say. Life is a lot more fun when you are laughing at yourself.

Yes, love, in fact if anything, we might need to gently (oh so gently) try to remind you that you aren’t the center of the ever-loving universe. Not that that’s quite what you think – you tried to give away half your toys when we were choosing what to donate and you gave your sister all of your Easter candy yesterday (although I do suspect you’ll want some back) – so it’s not so much that you’re selfish. It’s more that there isn’t a single note of humility in your ginormous vocabulary. It’s your biggest flaw by far. Now, don’t freak, Gracie – I can hear you freaking all the way from here. Having a teeny tiny flaw – one that’s a little cute (for now), and just a little annoying – isn’t the worst thing in the world. Everyone has flaws. Yes, I know you know that because you’re frequently pointing them out. So don’t panic that you have one too. You don’t need to say that others messed up when they didn’t, just so that you can be more right. And you don’t need to always think you’re the best at something. I promise with all my heart that I couldn’t possibly love you more even if you were perfect. It’s such a hard lesson, Gracie-girl, but you’re growing up so quickly and I think you can start to understand this: always try to better yourself, but be ready to forgive yourself if you fall. Revel a little in your mistakes. Laugh at them if you can. Believe your friends (your true friends…and your mama) if they tell you that you need to work on something. Even grown-ups don’t get it right. You finally are starting to understand what I mean when I tell you my job is to teach you how to be the best person I can, and that sometimes that means scolding your or telling you no. Well you know what? YOU have to teach yourself, too. Don’t worry, Gracie-boo – if anyone can do this, it’s you.

Yes, this year, the Year of Seven, I can tell it’s going to be a good one! We are moving into Middle Childhood. It’s a year of Beverly Clearys and other chapter books I have been waiting to read with you since you were born, a year of complicated Barbie plots to act out and fashion shows for me to judge, the year of your own library card and getting to stay unsupervised in the children’s room, a year of American Girl look-a-likes and playing Frontier outside. Your eyes sparkle every single day, Gracie, at the possibility of all the things you can play and learn. You are dazzled by the world right now and I, sweet girl of mine, am dazzled by you.

Happy Birthday, Gracie-boo. I am so honored that I get to share this year and all of its adventures with you. I love you, kiddo!

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Tags: birthday, children, parenting