Happy birthday love. My hopes for you are that nine is as gracious a year as eight has been to you, that you continue to love learning to read, that you always choose dancing with your brother over chores, that flowers bloom in your footsteps, that any tears you cry you have earned, and that you continue to feel everything deeply and passionately even when it sets the world on fire and crashing around you.
You have rocked my world, made me a mother, challenged me to be a better mother and a more peaceful person. You have needed protecting and friendship and love and I have tried to give you everything I have and more. You are loved, so loved.
Dear Lily, cheers to age nine. Hold up your apple juice high, and sing to the clouds your beautiful songs! Sweet Lily, I hope to always be your friend and hunt for bugs and mushrooms and faerie folk with you. I will be your taste tester in the kitchen, your artist in training partner, your travel companion, and your mother, always.
Nine was a big year for me and I hope that your ninth year is just as full of joy as only you can make it. Goodbye eight. We'll miss you. Hello nine, let me show you the ropes! Catch your laughter on the summer breezes and hide it in your pocket for the colder months. Save some to mix in your hot cocoa and let the warmth from joy tickle you to your toes and spill out all over the table and your shirt, creating more smiles and giggles as it does.
The world is only getting scarier. You will understand more of it this year and I know that your big and passionate heart will be frightened and sad by what you learn. I am sorry that our world is like that. I can only hope that children like you, grow up to be people who work on healing the pain and chaos that all who came before you have left as legacy.
Dear Lily, I love you. Mama.
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A blog about farming, unschooling, feminism, 22q deletion syndrome, cooking real food, homesteading, permaculture, and motherhood.