the little things: Caleb: on your twelfth birthday

This morning I woke early. No one in the house was up yet. The creaking wooden stairs underneath my feet stirred the quiet darkness. Sitting with my coffee cup, I held tightly within my hands a notebook that I bring myself to this time every year. Each of my children will know that their mama is a writer, chronicling moments and special occasions with a few paragraphs to commemorate their milestones. Letters from a sappy, sentimental mother who doesn't know how else to communicate...how else to show her love. Oh, but how untrue that is... we all have different ways to show our love.

The multifaceted approach is our specialty. In some ways I hope these letters reach them in special times, when they need it the most. In reality, I am certain that they will know the love that surrounds them in other lovely ways. The way their daddy holds their hand and shows them how to cut with a knife. How their mama helped them read through secret family recipes. How human daddy is, when he apologizes for a mistake. How mama shows her vulnerability, talking about her fears. How their parents clap at soccer games and band performances. Those moments of pure admiration for the little people they are raising in a great big world. Our kids, they'll know. And when they question it- which is a right of passage into life- well this is what I'll say:

Dear Caleb,

Today you turn 12. Your dad and I can hardly believe it. We're trying to figure out where the time goes. When you suddenly became this grown-up version of you.

This year has yielded some of the biggest changes in you. In the fall, middle school rushed in and suddenly you were carrying more books in your backpack. Class schedules became like pre-college practice sessions. You email teachers. You carry on intriguing conversations. You roll your eyes. When did this happen?

Within a moment I can flash back and remember walking you to your kindergarden classroom. Where backpacks were filled with handprint collages and macaroni glued to construction paper. Now your teachers surely expect too much don't they? Are you already solving for x and y? When did this happen?

As much as I want to cling to the moments of the past- I know that it is just as important to embrace the moments of your future. At every turn, Caleb, you have surprised us and made us even more proud of you. Your sweet, gentle spirit. Your curiosity for the changing world- a world that changes just as much as you do. I can see all of it in your eyes that begin to question anything and everything...just the way you're supposed to. You are a brave soul.

Watching you go out there on scout camping trips all on your own. Carrying that pack with resolve, "I can do it." You can, Caleb.

You are starting to set limits for yourself. You are starting to read into how you feel. You know when you're tired. You know when you need more of a challenge. You are starting to figure out yourself. Sometimes I think that's what most of adulthood is.

Inside all that growth and maturity I still see that baby we brought home from the hospital. The one with tiny fingers and toes who made us a mama and dad. I don't forget about all those precious years in between.