May 4, 2022
Dear Scarlett Rose,
You, my lucky star, are lucky number 7 today. Why does every number after 4 seem so impossibly big…
At 7, you are magical. Once upon a time, you may have been described as stinky but sweet, but as each year passes your sweetness overshadows the stink. You are thoughtful, caring, loving, and kind. You don’t ask for things, you ask for attention and quality time with your loved ones. You have an innate sense of right and wrong and you try to do the right thing most of the time (and when you choose to do something you shouldn’t, you usually recruit August to do it for you;) You are empathetic and care about others. That also translates into caring about what others think about you, but I try my best to teach you that what others think does not matter one bit as long as you are being true to yourself. The world so needs exactly who you were born to be.
You are the best big sister to August, even though it is not always easy. You share even when he doesn’t, you always make sure to get one for him whenever you get a treat or prize from somewhere. Your day is made when August is playing along in your imaginary world. You are his best friend and have been since the moment you bent down and kissed him in his car seat on the day we brought him home. You are his protector, his partner in crime, his big sissy.
You are so smart and love figuring things out for yourself—and I do my best to let you. But even though you are such a big girl you still need my help every now and again, and I happily oblige. You still like being picked “uppy”, and you still request that I help dress you and brush your teeth. You still like being pushed on the swing sometimes and like being read to best, even though you can read on your own these days. I know you don’t need help with these things, not really, but neither of us are quite ready to admit how big you have grown. Thank you for still being my baby in those moments.
You love Bear, Oscar, and when August does what you want to do. You love “sghetti”, swimming, stuffed animals, and Bluey. You love Jesus and I am thankful that the place you go everyday when you leave us teaches you more about Him. It helps make your absence a little bit easier. You love doing art, playing pretend, and leisurely baths making gourmet bubble treats. You love riding your scooter in the house, picking up chickens, and finding cool looking rocks on your adventures. You love being silly, collecting small objects and putting them into various containers, and being in nature. You love many things, and I love you.
This has been the first year you have been away from me, and I admit I do not like it one bit. I was worried that school might change you, that you might be less carefree, lose some of your wildness. But thank goodness, they could not tame your spirit (and if they ever try, they will have mama’s to contend with).
I cannot believe your kindergarten year is coming to a close and that next year you will be a first grader—it is that next big leap you will take away from that baby girl with a swirl and cheeks for days, spending days in mama’s lap instead of a school desk…I thought we had so much more time than this. Just last week we were feeding ducks at the park, picnic lunch in tow. Your chubby little legs running after the geese as they honked in amusement (not fear or annoyance—even geese cannot resist your charm). Your breathless giggle as I push you in the little pumpkin seat swing, your face shining up at the sun, rivaling its brightness.
I am thankful for the year the world slowed down and reminded me of those long, slow days of us. As our days get more busy I will do my best to make time for the slow—the time when you cook me three square meals in your outdoor diner (I recommend the mulch spaghetti and rock ice cream—it is fabulous), rainy afternoons snuggled on the couch reading every single book we checked out from the library that day, you and August creating your own world for hours. While I love all the school events, recitals, watching you learn to do this and play that, nothing beats being with you during those slow moments.
You are the BEST thing (sorry Oscar).
Love,
Mama