One More Year

My oldest daughter will be a teenager in one more year.

One more year.

Last year, I wrote a great post about my Anna turning 11 here.

And now she is turning 12.

No longer is she young enough for the kiddie meal.
Or is she grouped with what is considered children on a survey or questionnaire.
Or the reduced admission at the amusement park, pool, water park...insert your past time of choice here.
I am not mentioning this because I want to save money.
Its just that all these years, it has seemed like 12 was so far away.
But here it is, creeping around the corner.

12

 Huh.....

I did not see that coming.


But I am not gonna get weepy or heave big sighs like I did last year.
OK maybe a little.

See this year is going to be different.
She enters middle school in August.

Instead of all the things I could be worried about with her coming in to the teenage years (because even though she isn't officially a teenager until next year, she is for all intents and purposes a teenager right now), I am going to focus this post around the great things that make her who she is.

 And hope that they stay in place for the next six years or so...:)

Thank you for making all those awesome little gifts that show off your natural talents.

The ceramic dinosaurs, the paper mache vases, the artwork on artists canvas drawn with chubby little fingers.

I treasure them and will for always.

And they usually make me cry.

The ugly cry.

I love that we are indeed friends.

I know they say you shouldn't consider your children "friends" but over the past 11 years, we have become what one would call friends.

We laugh together, talk about things no one else knows about together, even have inside jokes together.

We have loved watching you go from "only child" to "big sister" over the past four years.

You fell in love with her instantly.

And she did with you, as was witnessed when she said her first word:

Anna.

I love that you enjoy cooking with mom in the kitchen and have since you were little.

This is the year (age 12) that my mom and grandma taught me to cook.

I can't wait to share that with you.

I love your snuggles... 

..that you love to help out whenever you can.

...that you help me out in the biggest and the smallest of ways, even when no one is looking.

....that you are a tomboy.

Just like I was.

...that you play the clarinet.

Just like I did.

And I love that you are sticking with it too. :)

Anna, on this day 12 years ago, I was so scared and worried.

Scared about having a baby but also worried that I wouldn't be a good mommy, that I wouldn't know what to do with a baby, scared that I would let you down, scared that I didn't have it in me to be a mom.

But over the years, you have helped me overcome these fears.

I am a good mommy and as soon as you came out of me, I knew exactly what to do.

I hope I have never or will never let you down although I am sure there are days...

But most of all, I am able to be such a good mommy because you are such a good daughter.

I have loved every single moment we have shared and I look forward to all the exciting things to come in your future.

I promise to stand back and watch from afar at the bus stop next year when you don't want me taking pictures on your first day of middle school.

                                                            It'll be hard but I promise.

I promise to be there for you when you lose your soccer game or when you have a crush that doesn't crush back.

I'll have plenty of tissue, People magazines and Mike will make his famous chocolate chip cookies for you.

I promise to drive you to school dances and look straight ahead, not make eye contact and not try to talk to your friends like I am trying to be the cool mom.

Speak until spoken to will be my motto.

I promise not to cry in front of you at your 8th grade graduation.

At least not the ugly cry.

These are not things you have requested as of yet but they will be and even though it will be hard, I will deliver.

I will do these things for you and your sister.

Because I love you both.

Because I remember what it was like to be 12.

And because in six years, we will have you back again.

I love you Poo.....

What?

 I can't call you that any more?

:)