Double digits. We made it… or something. Both of us, I mean. There was some concern in this one little part of my brain that one of us might be the end of the other before we could celebrate with two candles.
(I’m joking… mostly…)
She’s an amazing ball of energy, bundle of joy, battery of love and my little beauty. I’d really do just about anything for her, including a handful of felonies if it came to it. I do have SOME standards, which I will happily share with you as soon as I figure out what they are…
We made it ten years. Of course she said tonight, “It doesn’t count until 3:30… because that’s when I was born. I’m not REALLY ten until 3:30.” I’m willing to spot her half a day… I know she’s good for it.
It’s been a wild ride. There have been no boring moments. Like zero boring moments. I would consider paying a substantial sum for roughly 2 hours of boring moments just to see what they feel like.
She lives on the edge of the seat. She’s always ready to jump up and dance, a feeling I cannot relate to in any way, shape or form. The other day, she jumped up so fast to start dancing around that I sprained something in my leg without even moving.
She’s a reader, too. She loves it. We cuddle up on the couch and share a blanket, each reading our own book. Princess Diaries for me and Dallas Willard for her… don’t knock the fine literary achievements within 4th grade princess books.
She’ll watch whatever I’m watching on TV. I’m patiently waiting for that one to materialize in some sort of bizarre reverse hereditary phenomenon, but mom still hates ESPN. She tolerates the Food Network more than I tolerate HGTV. I mean, they’re all kind of the same show over and over again with different square footage… Like shiplap solves everybody’s hoarding problems.
Back to my ten-year old… It’s tough to call who has taught more to whom. She’s changed my life completely. And you should ask me about that, because my response is funny. She’s only known life with us. She didn’t know the house with the holes in the ceiling and the furry natural roommates that fell through it. She didn’t know the winters before she was born where we could leave a glass of water on the floor and it would be frozen by morning. She didn’t know the months where we had to choose which bills to pay.
She’s only known our arms and what it’s like to come home to a house that she belongs to. She’s only known a home with a room in it for her. She’s only known what it means to belong and to be loved.
We don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this. I can barely live up to it some days, but her heart is so big it includes all of those days, too. Daily, she’s an experiment in ballistic life and an example of all-inclusive grace. Regularly, we have no idea what’s going to come out of her and just as regularly, she never fails to surprise us. It’s awesome.
Thanks for Emma, Lord. Thanks for trusting her to our meager lives and our whims. Thanks for teaching us so much about you through this precious gift. Make us worthy. Help us to be better at it. Guide us as we guide her to live a beautiful life dedicated to your presence on this earth.