Ever year
when Tessa’s birthday approaches I think about what a delightfully easy child
she has been to raise. She loves to
sleep – major parenting win in my book.
She allowed for the shortest stay in the hospital. To my recollection she has never warranted
any school contact for behavior issues.
She is our one kid who has never had surgery. She wears hand-me-downs with excitement. She shows parent devotion bordering worship
that can warm my heart on the toughest of days.
She really has been a breeze I told myself nostalgically as I mentally
prepped a little Facebook birthday shout out in honor of her tenth
birthday.
But in this
reflection I suddenly took pause, and several buried moments started to
surface. Like the time I was SO excited
to see Hotel Transylvania as I neared the end of my final pregnancy (I am a movie loving loser who always fears
lack of theater going each time I approach the stage of infant parenting) and
my popcorn loving soul was stopped dead in my tracks when one look at the
poster as we entered the theater sent Tessa into such an emotional frenzy that
we had to leave the theater. This Adam
Sandler movie was going to be way too frightening for her… Or the time she boycotted every ride at
Disney after getting scared in the dark on Frog and Toad and Sephus and I had
to take turns holding the lover of sleep after seven each night while we took
turns on rides with Avery. Or the time
Sephus had to rush her out of Sophia’s because someone near us ordered seafood…
or the time she puked on the table at Mandarin House because our food smelled
too strong.
And as I
thought about these events some even more distant memories surfaced. One from the time my dad had to drag me to
the car at a fireworks show when I was four because my tears were “ruining 4th
of July for the rest of us” or the time my mom and I left a movie theater to
shop at K-Mart after a scary face in the movie Time Bandits had me screaming so
loud no one could hear the movie. Or the
time I repeatedly yelled, “You lied to me Uncle Jack” during a train ride
around Disney after he forgot to mention the tunnel when I made him promise
there were no dark parts on this ride…
Tessa has
been so easy for me because she embodies so many of my idiosyncrasies. Perhaps this makes her predictable. Perhaps my attempt to laugh off her faults is
my secret demand that the world do the same for mine. In all honesty, I watch her with some combination
of pride and concern for the life I see unfolding before her.
I see her
taking a book to the park or recess and I worry that she will never break any
athletic records and will sometimes struggle to notice that she hasn’t connected
with real people nearly enough, but I also know that she will be wiser and more
empathetic for living alongside so many characters in so many places. I know her interest in stories will make her
a good listener and a good touchstone for advice from those who seek both.
I know this
book obsession alongside her quirkiness makes her a bit of a loner at
times. I see her watch her super cool
older sibling get social invite after social invite while the phone line
remains pretty silent for her. I hurt
for her on some level, but I also know that having an older sibling that cool
is a gift in and of itself. I know that
this relationship will open doors for her and allow her acceptance she hasn’t
even had to earn. I know that she
worships that older sibling so much that she is happy to be waiting at home when
the social events end to live vicariously through every awesome detail she
eagerly devours at the end of the evening.
I also know that this time spent outside the cool kid spotlight will
help her find all of her confidence from within and will help her steer the course
as the winds of relationships change over the years.
I see her coming
home from a tough recess where she has decided to stop hanging out with someone
who made fun of someone else and remember how hard it is to maintain
friendships when you want everyone around you to be just a little kinder and
just a little more committed to rule following than human nature dictates. I know how hard she will be on herself when
she bends her own virtues to not always be on the outside. I also know that
someday she will find a balance she can live with and true friends that are
good-hearted and generous. She will also
learn that breaking some rules can be a little fun sometimes.
I listen to
her correct adults and peers and literally hear voices from my childhood
scolding me to not be a know it all. I
tell myself that someday she might find that know-it-alls get to lead
initiatives and mentor colleagues through challenging times at work. She will learn that bossy is one letter away
from boss.
I watch her
pensive eyes taking the world in with curiosity and concern and
compassion. I know her brain never stops
spinning. I know there is torture and
reward in a brain that never stops spinning.
She will be
okay. She will be more than okay…
When Tessa
was three I took her in for testing for the peer mentor program for
pre-school. She was offered a tooth
brush. She asked for a second one. The person in charge of testing told her that
if she took two it would not leave enough for the other kids. She said, “If I come home with only one
toothbrush it will make my sister really sad.”
When I remember her as an easy child it’s moments like that which stick
out the most.
Tessa has a good heart. She is smart.
She has a goofy sense of humor.
She is adorably clumsy. She is a reader.
She is a thinker. She is
driven.
When she was much younger she
rolled around in a princess dress, sobbing “cleaning is so hard” I felt so in love
with this mini-me and all of her beautiful imperfections. I have heard that people often have children
for a second chance… to maybe get it right this time. Spending the past ten years with Tessa makes
me think that maybe, just maybe, I’ve been getting it right all along… As she
and I laid in bed reading a book together on the eve of her 10th
birthday, I knew I was getting it right with her.
Happy 10th birthday
Tess!
