Birthday Girl, version 13
I could post a series of pictures of pictures. But I won’t.
I could post an essay with a glimpse from each year. But I won’t.
Instead, I’ll post a list of the things I hadn’t expected.
I hadn’t expected “the eating thing” to be a reality for girls as well as boys. I figured it was just growing boys who ate one out of house and home. But no! Teen girls require 7 well-rounded meals each day, too (plus snacks).
I hadn’t expected your voice to change. Again, the deepening voice thing I expected from the boys we know. But you? Oh my gosh. Your voice isn’t a little girl’s, anymore. (Thinking about it, I should have realized. Women don’t have little girl voices, so they have to deepen at some point, right?)
I hadn’t expected such an understated sense of humor from a kid. You are queen of the one-word reply that speaks volumes. (I especially like it when your one-word answer is directed at your dad. I don’t really like it when you call me out for something. Somehow, it isn’t so funny, then.)
I hadn’t expected you to be just as comfortable being “one of the guys” as being “one of the girls.” You aren’t a tomboy. You aren’t a girly-girl. You are a kid who has great friends.
I hadn’t expected to have to nag you to wash your clothes. Or fold your laundry. I hadn’t thought you’d be just as happy to keep your clean clothes rumpled in the laundry basket until you pulled something out to wear. (Do your shelves have any clothes on them anymore? Or are they sitting empty and lonely in your closet, taking up space that could be better used for storing old games or boxes of papers to keep?)
It’s been fun being your mom so far. And, because of the person you are, I’m looking forward to starting the teen years experience. (I hadn’t expected that, either.)
PS: The wrinkled clothes thing? I still don’t understand that. But it’s OK. I just won’t stop teasing you about it.