To Evie on Your 7th Birthday

Dear Sweet Girl,

I know, that's a little mushy, but I still call you that multiple times a day. You seem to have grown up a lot this year in some ways, and in others you have become more silly than you've ever been. Your serious nature has been tempered by Eleanora's playful and care free ways, and you have been making up for lost time and learning how to lead the shenanigans yourself.

But you have maintained your amazing ability to focus intensely when you find a project you really like, which lately has been making slime (or similar other "experiments") or creating something all your own, like tiny items made out of clay, a 3D paper craft or card, or an intricate design you make out of some kind of open ended building materials, whether it be a toy like connectagons or sticks, leaves, and flowers from nature. The details of your creative and organizational work sometimes stops us in our tracks. It seems beyond your years. Even in your interactions with people, your mind is working far faster than people sometimes realize, and you process so much that goes unseen (a true trait of an introvert, and one that is to be cherished). You have talents in creative manual work, no doubt, and you live for projects. Your inability to accept mistakes sometimes can be challenging, and we try to encourage you to embrace those times when we can (you also tend to be stubborn about listening to us during those times).

Making glasses out of Wikki Stix

You are the most detailed story teller I think I've ever known. You recount every moment of an interaction or every small step of a project. This morning you were explaining to me how you were going to construct a 3D heart out of paper, and you created the entire design in your head and you had pictured each step. You described the entire process, including each piece and how you would cut or tape it together to achieve your goal. I admit, I lost you somewhere in the middle, but I was nevertheless amazed to hear the inner workings of your mind.

An example of a carefully crafted outfit.

Papa and I sometimes joke that you are like a little teenager, and we fear a little for our future if this is only a test run. You are conscious of your appearance and the way you dress - sometimes you almost make us late going places because you have to fix your outfit, look in the mirror one more time, or add an accessory. I wouldn't go so far as to say it is vanity, but it is definitely an awareness that, for now, is cute, especially when you emerge with an ensemble that was very carefully crafted, with attention to details from head to foot. You nonchalantly walk out, not wanting to draw explicit attention to yourself, but slyly checking to see if we notice your well-put-together look. We do. From your colorful socks with sandals, striped maxi skirt and skinny-strap tank top, to your all black pants/shirt combo, we see the variety of choices you experiment with and we love them all. But we can't say that out loud, because that would be too conspicuous. Usually I give a casual, "cute!" and keep moving, taking a picture of you in my mind and smiling to myself.



Sometimes your moods can be like a teenager, as well as your backtalk - much to many others' surprise (and ours, at first). You are, no doubt, the sweetest and most considerate child I know, yet at times this voice emerges that is contemptuous and impatient as all get out, and we are sometimes taken aback. In my finer moments, I try to remember to allow some element of this and not stifle it so much, as it does seem to come from a place of assertiveness, of not hesitating, and I hope that part of you gains strength, because you seem to have learned that it is best to be polite, sorry, and dismissive of your own gut feelings a lot of the time, and this saddens me (even though I know it is often how girls learn to behave). I hope we can show you how wonderful and important it is to be strong and confident in yourself; you have every reason to be.

You do know your mind - most of the time. Sometimes you are indecisive and agonize over a small decision. But other times you amaze me with your confidence in a decision. You recently decided to stop going to dance class. Like, mid-year. I encouraged you to finish out the year or maybe take a break and go back, but you were very persistent and continually told me you were sure. I was afraid you'd quit and then regret it, but you seem totally happy to just wait with me while Eleanora does her class. Sometimes we each read our books next to each other, or sometimes we walk next door to Barnes and Noble for a bit. I don't mind the extra time with you at all. You also said you wanted to try ice skating classes, so we signed you and Eleanora up for a weekend class, and you loved the first session. I'm not sure how long it will last, but for now you're all about it.

Holding her hand like big sisters do.

Speaking of Eleanora, you love to be her big sister. I don't just mean playing with her or being silly with her, I mean you specifically like to make it known that you're older. Sometimes this means quickly correcting her if she misstates something (which happens a lot), and sometimes it means giving me a glance after she mispronounces something, attempting to whisper "she's so cute!" as an aside (but you actually say it rather loudly right in front of her). You like to be on the same page as the adults, understanding things that are funny or important, and sometimes pretending or getting frustrated if you don't.

You are one of the most conscientious people I know. You make a point to tell me and Papa just how much you love us on a regular basis. You strive to come up with amounts or distances even greater than the last time you told us ("I love you infinity!" or "I love you up to the moon and back down to Earth and back again!"). You freely give kisses and hugs to us, and you are so genuine in your affection.

We love you more than words could ever express, and we can't wait to see what the next year brings!

We finally got your ears pierced for your 7th birthday!