My darling Emmy Lou,

A decade has gone by since you were born. At times it seems like forever ago and others it seems as if I blinked and you’re a young woman.

You are silly and delightful and stubborn as all get out. There is absolutely zero chance of anyone else getting the last word in, which is both infuriating and admirable. You sing and dance all the time, which makes me beyond happy.

This past year was a challenge. Covid brought about more weirdness than we could handle, but you did it with grace. You navigated virtual school, and not seeing friends, and being cooped up with your family. But as weird as the year was, we also had a lot of fun. We went to the beach. We went to the mountains. You got to see your baby cousins and you were AMAZING with them. I see a job as a babysitter in your future.

Your current loves are: graphic novels, cheeseburgers, the beach, playing with friends, Moe’s queso, and your daddy.  The two of you still read every night before bed and have tackled a ton of books in the last year, including your current series, Spy School. You still ask him to wake you up every morning so you can hang out with him before school and work (even if you are clearly NOT a morning person.) If given a choice, you’d sleep until 9 and even 10, which is crazy to me.

You still won’t a touch a single fruit, but we make due with vegetables. Spinach, carrots, broccoli and the occasional green bean are tolerable in your book. Lord knows I shouldn’t ask you to take a shower. You’re totally a night owl and getting you into bed is a feat in and of itself.

I’m excited to see what ten will bring. You’ll start 5th grade, your last year of elementary. You’ll go away for a few nights of sleep away camp, a very big deal for you since you are more of a homebody than me or your brother.

You are growing up my sweet girl. While I can be nostalgic for my chubby faced toddler, and the little girl who mispronounced things, I am so eager to watch the young woman you are becoming. You have a huge heart and you care deeply about others. Sometimes that means you get hurt. You feel things so very deeply. I want to wrap your little tender heart in tissue, to protect it. But you’re learning and working on how to overcome and navigate the hard things. It’s hard even for adults to do that and I’m so proud of you for trying.

Happy double digits my love! Let’s see what ten brings.