For 17 years, we’ve been your parents. Man, we parents really lose it during the teen years, don’t we? We used to be super attentive and excited about your little pinky twitching. We used to laugh – even cheer – at your flatulence! How times have changed. We used to tell anyone within earshot about your latest developments, like when you FINALLY rolled over at 8 months (too many people heard about how you really liked to sit as a baby), how your first word was “watch” at 9 months (how did your little mouth wrap around such an obscure reference), how you got most of your other words all mixed up and backwards, like “phone-miker” instead of “microphone” or “beltseat” instead of “seatbelt,” many of which have found a permanent place in our familial vernacular.
We actually used to make appointments with our friends to show you off. Ha! They thought we were there to visit with them, but we just wanted to show them what you were up to. I don’t even know if they rolled their eyes at us because I was too busy looking at you.
We were nuts about you and everyone knew it.
Here’s the thing – we’re still nuts about you, so at what point did we stop celebrating your milestones?
Think about it. Now, at 204 months, you’re walking across full rooms without help. You’re walking to the bus stop, you’re walking to school. You’re walking, walking all the time and we never mention it all. It’s got to be disappointing that we don’t notice all that walking you’re doing.
You don’t just say “watch” anymore, you say mouthfuls of words! You’re talking not only to people, but on devices too! You’re expressing emotion and voicing opinions. You’re using your words ! Why aren’t we celebrating this?
Let’s talk about how you no longer just sit and roll over. You play SPORTS. Your father and I hardly know what sports are. Here you are tapping into these latent skills and excelling! You got 98% in P.E. last year. How’s that even possible, are you an Olympian? You’re on the volleyball and badminton teams and you were on the BOYS BASEBALL TEAM last year. At 204 months, you are showing up your immobile kin and you’re showing up society. Barriers, inherited and societal, are to be overcome! Good for you, 204 month old!
What about the driving! We put a steering wheel in your hands and told you to press go with your right foot, and stop with your right foot again–no, that’s the gas, yes, that’s the brake–and you didn’t look back, except to check your mirrors. I watch you take it all so seriously and try not to inhale too quickly when you’re taking the corner wide. You’re DOING THIS. You’re transporting us to A & B [somewhat] safely. How do you exist?
Truthfully, you’re not even overly keen on driving, other than to recognize that it’s probably a helpful tool should you want to leave the city. But you love being in the city. You navigate the transit system like nobody I know. You don’t even stick to the subway lines, you’re on buses and streetcars, alighting and transferring left, right and centre. A week or so ago, you did more touring of Toronto in one day than I have done in my lifetime. You tell me it’s easy – you just need fare and the TTC app and the city is your oyster. But just because you make it look easy, doesn’t mean it is! Don’t negate the fearlessness and aptitude required to tame the Red Rocket like you do. You are a super hero.
If the goal of parenting is to move one’s children towards independence, we realistically stopped parenting you at month 40.
You have delighted us consistently over the last 204 months.
But I want to be clear about this. Our delight may look like it’s about what you do, but it’s actually about who you are. All those cheers for your baby flatulence weren’t because we hoped you’d win Fastest Farter in the West, but because it showed us that you were healthy and functioning properly. We’d hardly care about that 98% in gym except it reveals something about your character and how you like to challenge yourself.
If our love were dependent on what you do, how would we handle that time you got 27% on a test or the way you have totally forgotten how to make your bed over the past couple of years. Even those things reveal something (as you explain that for all the sleeping you’re doing in this season of life, it makes almost zero sense to make a bed).
If I were to encapsulate who we see you becoming, who God intended you to be, what comes most to mind as your enter your 205th month and 18th year, I see you as an adventurer and lover of life. You are very willing to try new things and even seek out new experiences. Truly, and now is the time to say it, I credit you for making every single one of our moves – even the one to Ghana – a joy. To see the world through your eyes, to watch how you embrace the challenges, well, you help us all adjust and probably curbed a freakout or two.
At 204 months, you find yourself in yet another new home. While I’ve been tempted to grieve the change, you’re excited about living in a high-rise – a community of a couple thousand people in one building. You’ve already invited your friends over and went on a mission to find out where the heck the gym was and discovered that the penthouse floor is really just the same as our floor only at the top. You’re learning, learning, always learning. I want to celebrate that – that as long as you’re curious about the world around you, you will continue to grow and develop. New things every month – this is life you live and we celebrate.
I love how you love God, openly wrestling with deep questions without losing your trust in him. You teach me, young one! The way you love others, deeply, loyally and how you think big, important thoughts that the world needs to hear… how am I so privileged to sit at the table or on the couch or by your bed, your only audience, to hear from you? Sometimes I’m afraid to talk because it means you’ll stop. These are golden moments.
Your Daddy and I have many secret conversations (we’ve cut down on the appointments with friends to brag about you) where we actually get giddy about how precious you are.. Our hearts burst or hurt in the rhythm of your own joy or pain. We see you becoming that girl, that young woman God made you to be. This birthday, my only advice to you is to keep going! You’re doing it, you’re WALKING!
And we’re celebrating!
Happy Birthday, Mallory!
P.S. Have I mentioned how you can laugh at yourself.
Behind the scenes photo…
Literally, “behind” the scenes.