tupelo honey

Well you had the nerve to turn 8 this month.  I suppose it's what every mama feels but I still look at you and see those chubby cheeks and soft curls.  Oh baby girl.  It's been a ride hasn't it?  I know we're both antsy about what's coming.  But you go ahead and stretch those wings and I promise to not clip them every chance I get.  Hey, that's progress.
I was not joking when I looked you in the eyes and said we are both going to make mistakes.  Mostly mine.  I saw you tear up as the reality of an imperfect mama stared you straight in the face.  I've tried to fake it for a long time but you're wiser now.  Thank you for all the moments you remind me to see the alternatives to frustration and criticism.  I am humbled by all the generosity in your chocolate brown eyes.

People stop me to talk about how amazing you are.  Did you know that?  Your sunday school teachers, other parents and even the school secretary.  I beam inside so much that it scares me.  It scares me how much of you is wrapped up in my identity.  Especially when I know how much your wild will kept me on my knees.  When I know it was grace that got us through ALL the days.

Sister friend you wear some fearless armor over that tan skin.  I definitely have you to thank for these worry lines over my eyebrows.  I know you don't want to wear those glitter boots because they can't make you fly like your Vans.  And forget about anything that inhibits your tree climbing capabilities.  Sorry I guilt tripped you into a skirt last week.  It's just so hard when you have a little girl and you get to pick out all these cute clothes.  I'm trying to let go of it.  Pinky swear.

And when that bravery fails. When your fears and shyness seem like mountains you simply cannot climb.  When I can choose to be your enemy or your ally.  I wont dismiss your battles.  I'll try to listen, nudge you when you're ready, and whisper to you the source for perfect peace.  

What began as a desperate attempt to wrangle a fellow actor onto your stage (somewhere between chubby baby and skinny boy) became a solid friendship with an equally creative playwright.  I breathe deeply listening to you on all the long slow mornings.  And it's not just with Ian.  I swear I could drop you off anywhere and you would have a group of one to sixteen year olds wearing dress up clothes and engrossed in some fairy tale.  You are able to skip and dance between four year old play and fourth grade antics in a way that keeps me guessing.  It's a skill that will serve you well babesy.  This world is stocked with characters and you just never know who might end up in your circle.

Lately you've become a bit of a bookworm.  Your teacher said that you might as well skip school and go straight to college (or something similar).  So embrace your inner smarty pants.  Don't run from the hard work (i.e. Spanish) because you didn't master it on the first try.  It's ok to be great at some things and good enough at others.  We're all in the same boat on this one girly.

Could you be any more stunning?  I don't even want to tell you that because I'm scared you'll anchor too much in all that outside beauty.  Especially when I know that the true gems are mined much deeper within you.  So I pray you'll learn to wield your mind and faith before your smile.
And that there are many years of braces and flat chestedness in your future.

Are you going to be a teacher?  Or an artist?  Or a circus performer?  Or a veterinarian?  Or a stage actress?  Or the cash register lady at McDonald's so you can get a discount on fries and mango pineapple smoothies?  I don't know.  What I do know is that your coworkers will think you're the funniest girl at work.  Those joke books are going to pay off one day, I'm telling you.

Your best things right now:
waffles
the color blue
friends
chapter books
Sky High
stuffed animals
Jamba Juice
drawing
rainbow looming
ziplining
tree climbing
nighttime snuggles

You are a spectacular girl Ava bear.  I have loved being your mama and pray blessings on this year beyond your wildest imaginations.  Ok, maybe not living in candy land and riding a blue unicorn to your friends houses every day.  But pretty dang close.  Love you, love you, love you,

Mommy