Va-vi,
Eight years old. How wild when your dimple smile and contagious laugh always holds you at three years old in my heart. My Vially! Getting so grown, it seems impossible but here we are.
You are really something, Vi; my little magical unicorn of a child. You are unapologetically you and it is inspiring to most people who know you. You are my little artist with a creative eye who can make interesting art out of literally anything. Once, you designed a wearable tank top out of a plastic grocery bag! You are a competitive perfectionist. We had to have a talk this year about how important recess is because you were skipping it several days this year just to beat a classmate's AR book count. Girl, have some fun, you do not always have to be the winner in everything.
You are freakishly self-assured, In the three years you've been in school not once have you come home worried that someone isn't your friend anymore. You literally don't care...because you know you have other friends, or you have siblings, or screw all of ya'll you have yourself and you'll go climb up in your bed loaded down with 16 cozy blankies and 85 stuffed animals and read until you finish several chapter books above your grade level and drift off into blissful sleep. How I aspire to be the level of DGAF you are Vi; unbound by what other people think of you - girl! the freedom!
You idolize Grey and look for his approval in almost everything you do. His friendship is so important to you (how grateful I am that you two have that bestie bond). You have a sister bond with Gemma that reminds me a lot of my sister bond with Kitty. You are obsessed with each other; giggling hysterically, making up dance routines, playing multiple-day overlap sessions of teachers/barbies/library - or you are both annoyed with all the ways you are different from each other and need space. (how thankful I am that you have a big sister who will love you loyally no matter how sassy you may be and you are the little sister who would literally punch someone in the face if they wronged your sensitive big sis).
You and Rusty are 'the meatballs' and sometimes it's hard to know where one of you ends and the other begins. So much sneaky mischief, so much getting out of chores together because you're younger than the big kids, so many inside jokes. People are always asking us if you two are twins (you have a year and 8 months difference). I'd say twin souls might be pretty accurate. Just like Gemma, I know you will protect Rusty if he ever needs it and that gives me so much peace (thank you Vi; my little security guard for your siblings' feelings).
With your limited patience, your relationship with the babies are still growing. You think they are absolutely hilarious when they are being naughty and you dote over their cute faces everyday. But you also don't have time to wait around for them to catch up, so it's a quick hug and a kiss and you're off doing whatever it was you wanted to do at full speed. It makes you crazy how they use your things or want what you want (girl, middle child probs).
You are classic "she likes what she likes," and as your mom that is both inspiring and frustrating. You were the only girl on the flag football team and literally ran boys over as the running back. You are considering playing tackle football next year, but could just as easily put on a cheer uniform and dance, clap, and tumble to your heart's content (I've seen you do and love both here at home, so whatever you pick is fine with us - as long as you pick what YOU want...I know a lot of people are rooting for football, but you will have fun and be awesome in either one). You devour books when you're in the mood, otherwise you are making enormous, impossible messes with your siblings that take up multiple rooms. You pick your own clothes (my little Punky Brewster who never matches and wears insane layers, like pink jean shorts over top black & silver starred leggings with a baseball cap).
This year in second grade, you love Social Studies and Science. You almost never need help with homework or studying, you just do what you know you need done and then shove any papers in my face that need signed. You have friends all over the place (different ages, genders, personalities) - you like who you like and if you don't like someone, I am grateful that you are very good at tolerating people in a kind and generous way. You are honest to a fault but you are doing much better at figuring out the things you should say aloud to someone's face and what maybe your bite your tongue for out of kindness.
You are so good and adaptable, Vi. This is so comforting to me, as a mom. You've never been very needy - even as a little baby; you just go with the flow. I was late to the bus stop the other day and you and Rusty had to go the whole way back to the school for me to pick you up. You reassured Rust that it was fine, and then hung out in the office, then barely gave me any grief about it, you actually laughed about it and said you got to see a friend's house since you stayed on the bus that long. You are just good most of the time; you figure it out and move on. Which means I don't often find you on my late-at-night list of worries of the things that I need to check in on.
But then that it is what I worry about, my girl. Because it's always the squeaky wheel that gets checked and we are so very different from each other in a lot of ways - except this one thing. We are both good and adaptable and we aren't squeaky wheels - even if we are flat and slipping off the rim.
You are my hot air balloon child; floating high up in the sky with the most beautiful view, barely waiting to be untethered to explore the whole damn world. Your ladder sways in the wind; dangling down to me while I hustle and bustle between all the people and things that are shouting for me down here on the ground. I know you are good up there; making friends with all the birds, sketching the sunrises and sunsets, hanging upside off the edge, throwing water balloons at your siblings, and probably pulley-system supplying yourself with candy and snacks.
But my darling, I know I need to climb that ladder more often and come to you. We can sit in your hot air balloon basket surrounded by too many blankies and stuffed animals and read books together and snuggle up and laugh. I know you are good, baby - what an absolute relief it is to me to have a magical, self-assured, bad-ass, artist, fierce child. But you are still my child and no matter how good you are, I am here for you and I promise to climb the ladder to your hot air balloon and meet you where you are - even if you don't ever have to call down for me to come up.
I am so thankful and relieved that you are adaptable and good, my sweet Violet.
but that doesn't mean you always have to be.
I promise to give you grace for all the times you might not be good
I promise to remember to check in on you even when you are good.
The whole world is yours for the enjoying, honey. And what a beautiful blessing it is to know I get to hear all your stories about the wonderful, magical, beautiful, and wild path you blaze in it.
My Vially,
I am so proud to be your mom it is dumb
I am so thankful I get a front row seat to your incredible and unique journey
You are truly the coolest person I know
and I will be loving you and cheering you on forever
no matter where your hot air balloon takes you in life,
I want to come up and see the view with you
love you forever and ever,
my peanut darling
forever,
momma
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