Dear Josie,
Your birthday tends to fall on a busy week/weekend. When you were born, we had finished up Thanksgiving, but 18 inches of snow fell the day after you came home. Your dad spent most of your first days digging us (and many of our neighbors) out. You spent your days in front of the windows, basking in the sun because we couldn’t get to the doctor to check your jaundice. It all worked out.
14 years ago we were also learning how to live out here having just moved to a new community, way out in the country. Uncle Phillip and Aunt Rachel had just moved across the country. We just lost my grandma, matriarch of the Mottazes. We now had two kids under two. We had a lot of stuff to figure out.
But it has all worked out.
I think this is because you were born to shine. While you have to share your birthday celebrations with a holidays and milestones, I coudn’t have picked a better kid to share these days. Your light shines bright wherever you are.
Being 14 is not easy, my friend. Being 14 during a pandemic can feel disappointing. However, I believe that you were made for times such as this. What comes across as stubborn is really fierce determination. You are the kid who decided to learn how to tie your shoes in a day, ride with two wheels in two hours, teach yourself every hairstyle, how to play the ukulele, how to bake bread, edit videos, enter a national contest…whatever…from a simple Google search. Josie, whatever you want to do, you figure it out. You will figure out how to make this year a great one, even if it is in a smaller scale than what your fabulous self is used to.
Josie, your dad and I have high expectations for you. I know that seems unfair at times. We may seem like we want you to be bigger than you think you can be. Especially when you’re 14, we may seem like we don’t understand you, maybe don’t even want to.
I’m here to tell you: we see you. We understand you. We love you. We know you.
I also want you to know that we feel a bit of urgency in our parenting. It feels like a minute ago that you were a tiny bundle in my arms, big eyes peeking out from underneath the blanket you loved to keep over your nose and mouth. We have one more year until you get your driver’s permit, two until you drive yourself, four until you are considered an adult. And yet, even as you stand on a stage, in a show ring, on a court, I still see that little fuzzy head kid with her hands on her hips directing her older sister in a scene from High School Musical.
The years are racing by and with each birthday, I’m reminded how lucky I am to watch it whiz past.
You’re pretty amazing, Josie. Thanks for keeping us on our toes. Thanks for testing every parenting muscle I have. Thanks for being YOU.
Keep using your powers for good.
Love,
Mom
