The Sweetest Soul

 

Yesterday was Day Two of a tension headache for me. I get these occasionally, more often after a car accident in Sept of 2019. It's the kind of headache that over-the-counter painkillers only touch mildly, turning it from excruciating, debilitating pain that would keep me in bed all day to a constant ache, making it difficult to concentrate and sapping my energy.

I was scheduled to attend a conference via video stream all day yesterday. I made it through the morning but after the lunch break I couldn't bring myself to stare at a screen again. I laid down for a while, later getting up to try to get a few things done.

Marissa was off school this particular day due to school closure to prep for in-person instruction the following week. She'd been having a difficult time of late — February is a hard month for her, with our dog being put down in February of 2014, and her friend dying by suicide two years ago. She dreads February and I understand why. 

I asked her if she wanted to go to Target with me, just to get out of the house and get a few things. She LOVES Target. As a joke once I bought her a t-shirt that read "Target is my happy place," because for her, it is. She can peruse the skin care and make up sections for hours. She also knows that taking her to Target is not my favorite thing to do for that exact reason; she can peruse the skin care and make up sections for hours. 

But off we went to Target with her behind the wheel, getting some driving practice. She spent time in her favorite sections while I got some things at the pharmacy, the grocery area, returned something at customer service, and checked on an order in the order pick-up area. We left about 45 minutes later with a single bag of items, not bad for a Target run.

We arrived back home with our items and she said to me, "Thanks so much, Mom, for using your energy to go to Target with me. I know you're not feeling well and it takes a lot of energy to do things when you're not feeling good, but you chose to do this with me and I appreciate it." 

I don't think I've ever known someone so intuitive, emotive and thoughtful all at the same time. What an unbelievable kid. 

Grateful for 2020, Welcome 2021

I cannot begin to write about how amazing the past few weeks have been. I am so incredibly grateful for my life. 

Neither Wayne nor I lost our jobs this year due to the pandemic, though my business took a drastic "pause" in late winter/early spring. Still, year-end giving time kept me busier than I've been other years, and I'm immensely grateful for the work and the relationships built throughout this time.

We know of people who have gotten Covid and recovered. Yet, we mourn the loss of Wayne's dear Aunt Margie who passed on Christmas morning. We will miss her welcoming smile and loving nature. It was a treasure to visit with her. She was glad to share her gift of artistry with those who knew her, always unsure of her talents which would leave a person in awe of its beauty. It was a blessing when she passed as she suffered from memory loss for several years and was no longer herself. She is the closest person to us that we know of the more than 345,000 (and counting) souls lost to this pandemic, and I am saddened for those who are experiencing their first holiday without their loved ones this year. 

Our children are healthy. They are sometimes grumpy, moody, impatient and annoyed, as teens are, so we know they are responding normally to the times we are in. Our eldest is planning for college and excited for her future, as are we. Our youngest is forging relationships through the quarantine with new friends and — gasp — a boyfriend, and somehow pushing her way through her anxiety which is telling her to keep in her shell, don't do things that are new and scary. She's doing them anyways. I'm so incredibly proud of her.

One of Marissa's new hobbies, learning the ukelele.

Wayne's work is keeping him busier than ever right now, sometimes in fun and challenging ways, other times in frustrating and seemingly fruitless ways. Still, he gets to work from home, something he was dreading at one point and now is enjoying immensely. Sometimes he takes Beauty for a run over lunch hour, an activity they both love every chance they get.

Wayne ready for a card game.

I look around see and so many people struggling to put food on the table, to keep a roof over their heads and their children out of trouble, and I give whenever I can, which is often enough that I hope I'm making a difference.

None of us will forget 2020; the pandemic, the cries for social justice, the election that wouldn't ever freaking end. 

I will hopefully never forget the gratitude I feel in this moment for the additional time with my family to connect with our teen girls. I was able to spend time writing, exploring new hobbies, baking, being out-of-doors, and doing new things I've never tried.

Happy New Year. Welcome 2021. 

Let's move on, shall we?

Patio dining quarantine-style.

Driving Practice

Lindsey needs to get 50 hours of practice driving in before she can take her driver's test. This includes 15 hours of nighttime driving. We're not sure when she'll be able to take the test since the DMV has been closed due to the pandemic, but whenever they re-open, she'll be ready!

This has been a perfect time to get practice driving in for Lindsey. There's no such thing as rush hour and she can practice driving Uptown and other places at night and they aren't too crowded. She's got an app that tracks her time and the kind of driving she practices.

This past week we went for a drive and before I know it 30 minutes have passed. I checked her app and said, "Wow, we've already been driving for 30 minutes! Feels like so much shorter than that."

She replies, "That's because I'm such a delight."

We both laughed so hard she almost had to pull over.

Marvelous Marissa

I am woefully late in writing some updates on our dear Marissa, who surprises and amazes me every day with her incredible spirit.

Marissa graduated from 8th grade this spring, ending her 9 years at Lake Harriet Community School and our last year as a Lake Harriet family.

On screen: Marissa's kindergarten pic next to 8th grade photo.

It was a bittersweet ending to a difficult year after a classmate of hers committed suicide in February. The last four months of school were exceptionally difficult — Aria's empty chair loomed large in so many of Marissa's classes, including her homeroom (called advisory these days). She and Marissa had been good friends in 5th grade, even though they traveled in different circles at the time of her death. At the recognition ceremony Marissa and her classmates wore purple ribbons in memory of Aria, whose family attended the ceremony.

Marissa has always made new friends every year of school, sometimes gravitating back to friends she had in earlier years, other times making new friends she never knew before, even though they'd spent years together in the same school. Other times she made friends with kids who were new to the school, making them feel welcome from their first days in class. After the ceremony she gave hugs all around to all her friends, new and old, promising to keep in touch even though she'd be going to a different high school than most of them for high school.

Marissa and her good friend Hanna.

As summer is ending and we are looking forward to fall, she is preparing to attend Eagle Ridge Academy, a charter school that teaches classical education. "Classical" education means she is required to take 4 years of Latin, she has a "Humanities" class instead of history and language arts, and will begin reading historical accounts from the beginning. Like, ancient texts: Virgo, Euripides, Homer. She's been to the school recently for a new student orientation and a "meet-your-teacher" night where they took school portraits before the school year even began. By the end of the new student orientation she had made two new friends and was looking forward to seeing them on the first day of school. 

She is thoughtful, caring, concerned for others. A few weeks ago she and I were shopping in Uptown. We were approached by a woman who asked us to help her get something to eat, she had no money and was hungry. If I'd had any cash on me I would have given her some, but unfortunately I didn't and I had to turn her down apologetically. Marissa felt so badly that we couldn't help her, she asked if we could go to the ATM at the nearby Cub Foods to get some money so that if we saw her again we could give her some. I obliged, of course. We walked the same route back hoping to run into her again but didn't — Marissa was disappointed and the rest of the day wondered if she'd gotten anything to eat. 

I am sad that our time together is coming to an end as summer ends, but I am excited for the school year ahead of her. ERA keeps talking about how rigorous their academics are; I get concerned that it may be overwhelming for Marissa, who has never gravitated towards school for purely academic reasons but moreso for social ones. If schools could measure and value a student's compassion, empathy and thoughtfulness, Marissa would be top of her class. Still, I know she will do well, she is a smart kid who takes her time to think things through. I am hopeful that ERA will be the place where she can grow and learn at her own pace.

Journey through Motherhood

At "Time to Fly" event benefiting CCRF, 2009

In my neighborhood I am surrounded by mothers at every stage of the journey. My next-door-neighbor has an adorable soon-to-be 3-year-old, down the street are siblings 8 and younger, across the street is a teenager and down from him are recent empty nesters.

My girls will be 16 and 14 this year — we are nearing the end of the "raising" portion of parenthood. Soon we will be entering the "why doesn't she ever call" portion of parenthood, followed shortly, I've heard, by the "my kids finally appreciate me" portion.

I find this stage to be rather ironic.

I mean, when our kids are little, they are just so darn cute, but they are also so much darn work! Their fingers and faces are always sticky, they are constantly needing to be fed, changed or taken to the bathroom, bathed, reasoned with, (as much as you can reason with babies or toddlers), and so on and so forth. They are a lot of work, from which parents often need a break. If I ever had even an hour to myself in my home without my children around, what a joyous time it was! Laundry got done, floors got mopped, windows got cleaned. One time Wayne and I took advantage of a "parents night out" at KinderCare, where they stayed open until 10 p.m. so parents could have a date night, and he and I washed all the windows in our house. They hadn't been washed since our kids had been born, we were happy to have spent our child-free time that way.

Marissa decided not to smile this day. 2012

Then your kids grow and grow, and at this stage they are...people. Fascinating, interesting people! They have opinions and ideas and really big, new words to communicate them. They are absorbing the world around them, making their own decisions about what's right or what's wrong, and wow, look out world, there is some change a-coming! They are so fun to do things with, to go shopping, or out to eat. 

But just as your kids get really fun to hang out with, they don't want to hang out with you. They'd rather be with their friends, watching movies, playing soccer, going to Starbuck's, building relationships with friends their own age. 

Soccer, Summer of 2017

Lindsey, Homecoming 2018

Marissa Selfie, 2019

When they want to spend time with me, I'll be here, ready to reminisce with them about the good old days when they used to play with water tables, push the dog around in a doll baby carrier, and do other silly things. Those stories are always good for a laugh.

Happy Mother's Day. 

Sweet 16 for the First Kid

Eight years ago, I wrote a blog post called "Halfway to 16." It was about Lindsey turning 8, and 16 seemed so very far away.

Now her 16th birthday is already 3 days ago. How things have changed!

At 8, she was excited to get clothes for her Barbie dolls, but was equally excited to get an iTunes gift card. I'm pretty sure she bought some Katy Perry songs with that gift card.

At 16, she asked for a large plant for her bedroom. Yes, a plant. She also has a fixation on all things flamingo. She finds them silly and quirky. So I also purchased a large standing metal planter for her room. On Friday, her actual birthday, she and I made a trip to Bachman's to get just the right plant for her room and for her flamingo.

I felt like I was being watched as I worked.

Lindsey's large plant, nicknamed Za Za. 

She got a silk butterfly hair clip to go with her butterfly dress that she wore to the Southwest winter formal. She loves dresses, she probably has 8 or 10 hanging in her closet at any time. Thanks to her job at Turnstyle she puts dresses on hold for her to try when she's not working. The butterfly dress was purchased there for $7.50. I think the hair clip cost more by the time I paid for shipping.

Opening gifts, her Marvel blanket always nearby to warm her.

She also got a journal, the feminist's journal. Lindsey has become quite the activist, marching in the women's march, even when it was 20 below zero, following politics, getting involved in environmentalism and, of course, helping animals. This summer she's going to start volunteering at the Animal Humane Society and she can't wait.

Like when she turned 8, she opted for a dinner at Benihana's restaurant. We went with Kristi, who lives in Minnesota now, unlike when Lindsey turned 8. We were thoroughly entertained by the chef who was fantastic and really made Lindsey feel special throughout the meal.

Lindsey wanted to dress up, I couldn't convince Marissa to not wear a hoodie.

Aunt Kristi with Lindsey, wearing her butterfly dress with matching hair clip.

In my original blog post I wrote about how my dad joked about coming to Minnesota once a year to see my kids. Back when they were small he'd say stuff like, "Geez, just 12 more visits and I'll be going to a high school graduation!" Sad to say, he didn't live long enough to see either of our kids graduate from high school. But I know that he is looking down and would be really proud of the young women they are becoming.

Lindsey's first beer! Just kidding. It's a frothy iced tea.

The Definition of Anti-Bullying

Marissa on the day she donated her hair.

My youngest daughter is always full of surprises. She is thoughtful, kind, and feels emotions deeply. Yet that side of her is often covered by an outward facade of carelessness and scattered thinking.

This past summer she got friendly with a boy from her school through a game called Fortnite. She had him in some classes the previous year and didn't think much of him. He often interrupted the teacher with off-topic comments and didn't seem to care for schoolwork. But over the summer they would spend hours on this game, chatting and working together on the various quests. She warmed up to him, and not a day would go by that they wouldn't talk. They never got together in person though, which I found unusual for a friendship. I kept questioning if it was more than friends, but the answer was always the same: just friends.

School started again this fall, and their friendship over Fortnite continued. They didn't have too many classes together this year, so she didn't have much of an opportunity to see him except for lunch. They would sit at the same table, a group of boys on one end, girls on another, because that's how it goes in middle school.

One day he called one of her girlfriends "anorexic." Marissa wasn't there to hear it, but she heard from her friend afterward that he had done this. Her girlfriend was really hurt. She already felt out of place with how petite she was — she is shorter and smaller than all of her friends — and he just reinforced how badly she felt about her body.

Marissa was mad. She came home from school that night and told me about the incident and that she was going to talk to this boy about it. I hadn't suggested this course of action, and internally was doubtful she would have the courage to do it, though I told her it was the right thing to do.

The next day at lunch, she marched up to this boy and said, "Hey, you called my friend anorexic yesterday and you really hurt her feelings." He was surprised. "Women and girls already struggle with their body image and being compared to models all the time, that was a really hurtful thing to say." He hadn't ever heard of "body image" before, had no idea girls struggled with it and that he'd hurt this girl's feelings, and he agreed to apologize to her.

The very next opportunity he had, he walked up to Marissa's friend and apologized to her for calling her anorexic. Marissa's friend was surprised and accepted his apology.

Marissa decided that this boy was not nice for having said such a mean thing, despite the fact that he'd apologized, and she no longer plays Fortnite with him or hangs out. If he did it out of a sense of winning back Marissa's friendship, he didn't succeed. But perhaps he did it because he genuinely felt badly for how he made this girl feel, and will not say something like that to someone again.

Marissa's actions are the exact definition of "anti-bullying," and I am so proud of her for inherently knowing to do the right thing.

First Job

What was your first job? Mine was as a dishwasher and busgirl at a local restaurant. I worked there the summer I turned 16, lugging tubs of dirty dishes up and down stairs from the lake where there was a float on the water where customers could be seated. Those seats were quaint and relaxing to enjoy as a customer, it sucked to have to take those steps with a heavy load of dishes as an employee.

When I first started, I had to wait a few minutes before touching the hot plates straight from the dishwasher. I saw another worker pull the plates straight from the dishwasher and start putting them away and I couldn't believe it — how were his fingers not burnt? By the end of the summer I was doing that as well, my fingers having toughened against the heat.

Most times I would bring food from home to eat during my break, but once I splurged and ordered something off the menu to eat. When I got that paycheck, I could see that I had worked a full hour to have a full hour's worth of pay deducted to pay for my food. That was the last time I did that, and I was also careful when I spent my money, thinking about how many hours I had worked to earn it.

Lindsey's been wanting a job for a while, but most places don't hire 15-year-olds. The local grocery store hires kids at 15, but she had no interest in working with food in any form.

On a trip to Turnstyle, a consignment shop, the woman ringing up our purchase encouraged Lindsey to apply. "We really need workers before the holidays," she said. Lindsey and I looked at each other and I asked, "Do you hire 15-year-olds?"

"We might, ask the manager," she said, "She's over there."

Lindsey sought out the manager, we went home and she applied online. She was surprised to get a call a few days later asking her to come in and interview. She interviewed on a Monday and by Friday got the phone call that they could hire her if she was interested. Was she? YES!



She's worked a few shifts now and she is loving it. Her co-workers and managers are super nice, and there are a few other high schoolers working there as well. She organizes and hangs clothes, tags new clothes that come in, and has learned how to consign home goods. This week she'll be learning how to consign clothes coming in, and she's excited for every skill she learns.

For the most part the customers are nice, and if they have a challenging customers the manager handles it. It sounds like the back room is filled with snacks and nibblies (brought by the manager) for everyone to enjoy.

She got her first paycheck which only covered one shift, and she's thrilled to be earning her own money. She told us that she doesn't need to get an allowance anymore, she's got her own money now.

First paycheck!

I am so proud of her for getting out of her comfort zone. It takes a lot of emotional energy for her to interact with the public, it would be so much easier for her to avoid people and just stay home. But she's determined to overcome her challenges, and this job is a perfect fit for her.

An Observation, by Marissa

One morning I heard a little commotion coming from the kitchen, the sound of many small objects hitting the floor (I assumed it was cereal), and shortly after the sound of it all being cleaned up.

I found Marissa in the kitchen with a look of relief on her face.

"Mom!" she says, "I just realized why you and Dad yelled at us when we were younger."

Hmmm....this seems like an odd leap.

So she explained.

For a little bit of background, Marissa takes an assortment of supplements (my favorite is the multivitamin for "healthy hair and nails"). Every Monday morning she fills her pill case with that week's doses and takes them every day.

She was filling her pill case for the week when an entire bottle of vitamins spilled, scattering little tiny pills all over the floor. Our dog, Beauty, came over to investigate. Thankfully she's been taught to not eat anything off the floor until she gets permission. She usually waits, unless it's an especially tasty-smelling piece of meat. So Marissa told her "no," and then was able to pick up all the pills before Beauty got to any of them.

Can you imagine if our dog had eaten a handful of random vitamins and supplements? I'd be using Dr. Google to try to figure out which ones are harmful or not, and probably taking her to the vet for a second opinion.

"Now I know that you and dad yelled at us, because you wanted to keep us safe," Marissa says. "You didn't want us to do things that would hurt us."

She and I recounted the cactus-touching event, when both she and Lindsey grabbed cacti on display at the local nursery. I spent the afternoon tweezing tiny little cactus needles out of both of their palms. (I believe that story is on this blog somewhere.)

Both girls also had to learn not to touch a hot stove by touching a hot stove. A couple of blisters later and neither of them ever did it again. After that, instructions like "wear your helmet" and "use a lifejacket when on a boat" went over much easier and with less argument.

I liked how Marissa made the connection between what had happened with the pills and Beauty and how her parents try to keep her safe. Now let's hope that lesson sticks when it comes to the really big lessons.

My Final Tween

This year Marissa will be turning 13 and we will officially have two teenagers in the house. Sure, it feels like we've got two already, but technically Marissa is still a "tween."

While Marissa was once our messy child, she has somehow come to appreciate order and cleanliness. Every morning she makes her bed before school. Clothes are actually put in a hamper, not strewn around the floor like they were when she was 7, and if you were to open the drawers in her desk you would find cosmetics and toiletries neatly arranged.

I spy with my little eye...

Yet there is still one throwback in her room taking her back to her childhood. Tucked away between some of her fluffy pillows is "Sheepy," the stuffed animal she slept with from babyhood on. I know she still sleeps with it, because sometimes in the middle of the night I hear the tinkle of little bells as she turns over with Sheepy in her hands.

So sweet.

The Grateful Child

In December Marissa was awarded a "HERO" award at her school. This is given to students who embody kindness, respect, encourage learning, all those traits that don't show up on standardized tests or in a report card. You know, the important stuff.

Marissa made out like it was no big deal — some teachers choose a student at random in their classroom, while others thoughtfully ask students to nominate classmates who have displayed rare kindness, then make their selection from that pool.

I could probably get a bumper sticker that says, "My child is a HERO in middle school," but instead, I'll tell a story that shows why Marissa is deserving of this award.

One day, Marissa and I were walking to a store together when she said the following to me out of the blue. As soon as we got home I wrote it down, so this is verbatim:

"You know, Mom, I was just thinking about how much Lindsey's been sick, and how much time you've taken off of work to care for her and stuff. And then I was thinking about when I was a little kid, and if I was sick and couldn't go to school and you or dad would stay home with me. I never even thought about the fact that you couldn't go to work, or that you gave up that day just to be with me. I don't know if anyone's ever thanked you for that, so I just wanted to say 'thank you.'"

And then a little snow got into my eye.

The Final Tween Year

One day Marissa asked me why Lindsey's birthday parties were always so cool and elaborate and hers were always so "blah." I explained to her that since Lindsey was our first-born, we loved her more and made sure her parties were extra special.

No, of course I didn't. And of course that's not true.

I told her it's because Lindsey plans her own parties, has for years. She put together her American Doll themed party when she turned 8, her murder-mystery party when she turned 13. She planned the food, activities, invitations, all of it. I simply execute what she has put together. Marissa's 11th birthday party had been planned by Lindsey as well, a surprise spa party.

The last time Marissa had a sleepover I asked her for weeks to come up with activities for all of her friends, things we could have them do. She would not give up a single idea until 30 minutes before guests were going to arrive, at which point she announced all of the amazing games they would do. Which, of course, they weren't, because none of it had been purchased or planned. That turned out to be one of the worst birthday parties she had, with drama between grade-school girls being the main party entertainment.

This year was different. She made a guest list weeks in advance. She took a henna summer class and loved it so much, she wanted a henna artist at the party. Booked.

A friend had a "walking taco bar" for her party and she wanted that for dinner. Planned it.

Lindsey suggested a costume game from a friend's sleepover that was entertaining. On it.

We had leftover sparklers left from the 4th of July in Michigan, and a beautiful backyard to use them in. Made it so.

And God bless my sister, she came over the morning of the sleepover and made all the homemade waffles for 10 girls, coming off a 12-hour night shift. She disappeared before the girls were even up as she had to sleep for the next night's shift, like a waffle angel.

What a special way to celebrate turning 12.

I Can Wait

Today is my eldest daughter's 8th grade graduation. She is excited to have middle school behind year, nervous for her high school years.

When I was pregnant with her, people with children would tell me, "Nothing prepares you for becoming a parent." (Some of the most unhelpful "advice" I've ever been told). Now I keep hearing those with graduating high schoolers or adult children say, "Don't blink, these next four years will go so quickly."

Thanks...I think. As if the first 14 years weren't a whirl.

When she was a newborn, I couldn't wait for her to be big enough so I could take her skating with me in the jogging stroller. When she was finally 6 months old, I took her around the lake for the first time. When I put some speed on, I looked down and she had her hands up next to her head, a look of wonder on her face, which slowly became a smile, then a giggle, and then a full-on laugh.

At age one I couldn't wait for her to learn more words, so I could be done with the pointing and the crying and the random temper tantrums because we could not understand her desires.

When she was 2 I couldn't wait for her to be done with diapers, especially since we had a second baby on the way.

The family at Dana Lake. You can hear the whining, right?

When she was 6, I was thrilled when she move to a larger booster seat so she could finally belt herself into the car. Now I just had to contort my body into strange pretzel shapes to get one child into the backseat, while she sat there safely buckled in, waiting to go.

When she turned 10 I was excited for her to move on to movies that others in the family also wanted to watch. Don't get me wrong, I love a good Disney animated film, but there's only so many times you can watch "Finding Nemo" before you don't care if he gets found.

When she was in 7th grade I couldn't wait for her to be old enough and responsible enough to not need before-school and after-school care. For the first time in years I could just get myself ready and out the door, knowing that the eldest would be responsible enough to lock up after the two girls left for school. We suddenly had extra money in our budget that could now be used in other ways.

We used some of that extra money to have date nights, because we no longer had the added expense of a babysitter whenever we went out. We went on our first spring break trip as a family, where many fantastic memories were made.

Now she and I connect in different ways. We share books. She'll find a good series on Netflix and we'll watch it together over the course of a few weeks. I can share some of the movies of my past that tickle my funny bone, because she'll get the humor of them, too.

Yes, she is surly at times, prickly, impolite, pick your adjective. But she is also expressive, funny, sensitive and caring.

These next four years? I can wait.

The Genders Go Camping

Say what you want, there are some inherent ways that boys and girls are different, whether a person identifies as one or the other.

While chaperoning at Marissa's 6th grade retreat, the girls in my cabin got about an hour of free time before lights out. During this time, they took showers, got ready for bed, then often spent the rest of their time braiding each other's hair, telling stories or joking around. One girl, a budding artist, sketched quietly in her bunk, the "scritch scritch" of her pencil heard throughout the conversation. Marissa worked on word searches with a friend and engaged in the room's banter.

How many braided heads can you count?

I took this picture on the last morning of camp -- clearly braiding each other's hair was a popular activity in many cabins for the girls.

In the meantime, I compared notes with a parent who was chaperoning in a boys cabin.

When it was free time, none of the boys took a shower. Instead, they took all the thin mattresses on all the beds and spread them across the floor to make a huge wrestling pit.  The chaperones drafted brackets and they had themselves a wrestling match. The loser of the previous match was the announcer for the next match, while someone else would flicker the lights on and off as the boy trumpeted, "And now...in this corner, we have the ever amazing, ever strong...Evan!!" And they were off.

This chaperone is the dad to two girls and was looking forward to chaperoning a boys cabin because he never gets "boy time," as he put it. I suspect he was the biggest kid in the room.

They had very different ideas of fun, both pursued with enthusiasm.

Miniature Woman

Lindsey at her murder-mystery themed birthday party.

Lindsey just turned 13. This is an amazing time of her life, and it is incredible to watch.

Her wit was brought to light when my family played cards when my mom and stepdad visited. She was funny. Witty. Intelligent. And won every game.

She is kind to her friends. She gives advice when it is asked, none when it is not, and a joke when the tension is high.

She speaks to adults with confidence and politeness, and has appropriate conversations and not awkward silence.

It is hard to believe that this independent, confident girl is my child, and not someone else's. Wasn't it just yesterday she was a little tiny baby, brought home from the hospital, with a mother who wondered how the nurses could entrust such a little life into her care?

Yet here she is, despite my foibles, a young lady growing, becoming her own.

I am so amazed and grateful.

Lindsey was "The Goose" in the middle school play. "Squacks" were never so funny!

Turning Ten

Marissa turned 10 this year. I have two girls in double digits, that just doesn't seem believable to me.

We celebrated her birthday with a sleepover. Marissa asked to have animals at her sleepover. Ummm...animals?

I reached out to the Animal Humane Society to see if we could have a part of her birthday party there, but they were already booked up. I searched for party entertainers with an animal menagerie that they could bring and share, but all the animals were of the scaly, crawly kind, not cuddly creatures like Marissa was hoping for.

And then I got connected to Second Hand Hounds, a rescue group that was willing to share two of its dogs that are currently in foster care, for a donation.

We had a kissing booth set up in our back yard with Peanut, a 15-year-old chihuahua, and Annie, the sweetest pit bull you've ever met. The best part was that I had kept this a secret from Marissa, told the party guests that they would be taking part in a kissing booth and all their parents had approved, before telling them what kind of kissing booth. (I had asked the parents before-hand if any girls had a fear of dogs or allergies and couldn't take part, so that part is technically true.) When they realized the kissing booth was with four-legged creatures, they were delighted.

The girls had such a wonderful time petting and posing with the dogs. It was definitely a highlight of the party.

Off to change into swimsuits and play in the sprinkler. I had set up a slip and slide, but hadn't realized how much the girls had grown. I guess they were kind of young when we bought it; it for 3-5 year olds, and the girls were practically the length of it when they tried to slide. It was fun to watch and they had a great time anyways.

After drying off and changing, a supper of homemade spaghetti sauce and noodles. Marissa had requested a chocolate mousse cake like the one we'd seen at Cosetta's in St. Paul a week before, and so it was ordered,  picked up, and was absolutely amazing. Plus it had the added bonus of being perfect for Lindsey, who in some bizarre twist of DNA does not eat cake. Not even a chocolate one.

The party was a smashing success. She reported that all the girls got along, they had fun playing together and it was the best party ever.

Her actual birthday was Monday and we made our annual trip to Olive Garden for dinner. We brought presents from family with us to open there, as we had to get Lindsey home in time for a soccer game after dinner.

A gift of maraschino cherries from her Grandpa Tom, because she kept eating all of the ones at his house last time she visited.

Gone are the days of our two girls bickering and fighting. (At least for now). The sweetest gifts Marissa received were one that Lindsey either helped to pick out for her or gave her. She received a Japanese tea set that Lindsey had bought for herself a few years ago. Lindsey played with it for a while and had a hard time sharing it with Marissa, our clumsy girl who tends to break things. Every time Marissa saw it her eyes lit up. Though it was technically a "re-gift," the fact that Lindsey gave it to Marissa for her birthday was the kindest gesture.

Marissa was so excited by the Japanese tea set.

Aunt Kristi was verklempt at the sweetness of the gesture. Lindsey pretended to join her.

Joy abounds wherever Marissa is. We are so happy with our sweet youngest girl.

Runner's Redemption

The last time Marissa signed up for Girls on the Run, it didn't go so well. It was disappointing. Frustrating. Anything but what GOTR is supposed to be about. You can read about it in my blog post from the day of the 5k, aptly titled "Giving Up."

I swore I would not make her sign up again for Girls on the Run -- I couldn't imagine anything worse than having a repeat of her last season. And yet, she wanted to register. I was doubtful but she insisted, so we did.

What a difference.

I was concerned that she wouldn't want to run the practice 5k because it was raining. Not drizzling, raining. But she was there with a big smile on her face, and off we went. We made a game of it -- we had to jump in every puddle we saw. We weaved back and forth across the trail to hit the puddles. If we were walking and saw a puddle ahead, we had to run to it and jump in.

Puddles ahead!

Marissa and Coach Kristi after the wet practice 5k.

She ran most of the way because of our game, unlike the other times when she only wanted to walk the entire distance. Our pants were soaked from the knees down, shoes sloshing and wet strands of hair sticking to our heads. We stopped at Caribou afterwards for a celebratory cup of hot chocolate.

Yeay for hot chocolate after getting sopping wet on a run!

What a blast. The next morning she said to me at the breakfast table, "I'm pretty proud of myself for running the 5k yesterday." She even wrote herself a note on our chalkboard in the kitchen.

The day of the actual 5k, she was bummed that it wasn't raining that morning, but decided that sunshine and a brisk breeze would do. We arrived at the event on time (actually ahead of time, since we drove with Coach Kristi), and had plenty of time to greet each girl as they arrived.

Ready to run!

A shirt-signing train.

The course was at the University of Minnesota campus. It looped around the campus in many different ways, but wasn't confusing because of all the signage and the volunteers directing runners. They had coaches and volunteers all along the course. We walked in a few areas, but once we saw a volunteer cheering Marissa wanted to run again. She didn't want to be seen walking any part of the race!

And...done! With a big smile.

We finished in 39 minutes. More importantly, Marissa accomplished what she set out to do, and was immensely proud of herself.

That's what I was hoping for. Hooray!