The Middle Eleven

 My dearest Collin,

You are ten tonight.  Tomorrow, you will be eleven. You’re entering the preteen years, and I sit here, watching you play with the cats, in utter disbelief.  How did we reach this milestone?  

This past year, you have grown so much. You’ve gotten taller, wiser, funnier, smarter, braver, and even a little bit calmer.  In the last year, you’ve learned much about the way your mind works, which has allowed you to understand the world a little bit better, I think.  It’s helped you understand yourself in a deeper level, which has helped your relationships grow.  It’s been such a revelatory year. 

Just a few months ago, for example, we had a moment where you finally were able to articulate why you refuse to eat cereal out of bowls like the rest of us.  You told me, frankly, that you cannot stand the sound of our metal spoons scraping against the plastic bowls.  It was such an easy fix, and our relationship grew because of it.

For almost the entirety of your eleven years, you’ve loved trains, dinosaurs, building, and books.  Recently, you’ve been surprising me with new interests and it has been so much fun seeing those develop.  You told me the other day that you want to try band and play the trombone. I honestly was shocked, because you’ve never really shown a deep interest in music. Now, you do love some songs or melodies, and you latch onto those and could listen to them for days on end, but in general, you don’t engage in music very often.  The other day, you were even singing! You made me promise not to tell people that, sorry, I just let it slip.  I’ve enjoyed seeing you bring home drawings from school this year, as well.  I think you maybe got some of your momma’s creative abilities in there.

Collin, you have such a brilliant mind. You are one of the smartest fifth graders I know.  When you say things like you aren’t good at math, it boggles me, because you are actually quite good at it even if it doesn’t come as easy to you as some other subjects. I know fourth grade was super rough, relationship wise especially, but I have such high hopes and can see such great things coming for you in this year ahead. I am so excited to see where this year leads you!

I have loved watching you continue to love on littles around you, at daycare, at church, and in our family.  You have such a heart for younger children, and babies seem to be your calm place (until they’re crying).  My heart melts when you sit and relax with a baby on your lap.

You're a fierce defender of all people and things that are important to you. You stand up for people when they are wronged, even if it gets you into a little trouble. Watching you guard the wedding rings at your aunt and new uncle's wedding a few weeks ago showed that protective side, too, as you told people you would guard them with your life. I loved you even more that day, too. 

As I said, we have had some trials over the last year, as always, but I refuse to sit and dwell on those.  I know that you replay things over and over in your mind, failures especially, but I want you to know that I see you beyond the missteps, poor choices, struggles, and hard times.  I see the real you.  I see your kind, loving, wonderful heart.

Perhaps one of my favorite moments of this last year was on baptism Sunday, when you went from hesitant to exceptionally excited in the blink of an eye.  We had talked off and on over the course of the week before about why you wanted to be baptized, and you didn’t really know what you wanted to say.  When you were asked, there in the water, you had the most profound, well spoken answer- you know you are under God’s wing.  You elaborated more than that, and it was poetic.  My heart could have exploded in that moment, and when I baptized you in the water and you sprung back up to life and hugged me, there was no greater moment.

Mister man, I want you to know that I will always continue to pray over you and for you.  In the coming year, I pray that you know that you are good, inside and out, and you always feel that you belong in this world. I know that the world can be a hard place and people can try to break you down, but I pray that you have been built up by those who love you most, God included, that you know you will not be broken. You always have a safe place in my arms, and I will always be here to listen to your tears.  I might not always have the perfect words to say, but I pray when I do not, you can hear God’s voice.  

I pray that you laugh so much this year that your sides hurt and your eyes water, you slap your knees, and you have to catch your breath.  Laughter is one of my favorite sounds and I think you have such a great sense of humor.  I pray that you are filled daily with hugs and kind smiles from those around you.  I pray you never feel lost in this world and always know who will guide you, especially if you feel alone.  I pray that you can see the great things you have already accomplished and take excited comfort in knowing there’s so much more in store for you.

I pray this a year unlike any other, and you really, truly, get to know how wonderful you are.

It has been a long eleven years. It has been a quick eleven years.  It’s been such a blessing.  I am so grateful that God gave me you, all those years ago.

You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m so glad you’re mine.

Love you more,

Mom