Birthday letter to Daniel, Age 6!
Feb. 16, 2014 - Colorado Spring, CO
Dear Little Bear,
Welcome to age 6!
The months since your half-birthday letter have flown by! We are
pretty well settled in now, adjusted to the altitude and the climate.
The autumn was short, and soon into it you developed a great fondness
for playing in snow. You and father bear have played like peers,
sledding and building a snow man.
Father Bear has settled in to
his new job, where he provides counseling and serves as the alternate
program manager for the Alcohol and Drug Treatment Program at Peterson
and is doing massage on the side. As for me, I closed my private
practice in NC and then once we finished the move to Colorado, I
underwent a miserable Medicaid audit. Since then, I have joined the
board of Autism/Aspergers Connections and taken on several volunteer
responsibilities at your school. I have been most grateful to be able
to focus on helping you with what you need. I hope to find a job here
too, but your schedule keeps us both quite busy, and the benefits are
worth it.
You are thriving at Academy ACL. You're doing well
academically and have terrific friends! For several weeks you've been
telling us how much you love Lydia, your "girlfriend," about whom you
are charmingly serious! You presented her with a plastic ring and a big
hug at your birthday party.
You've grown a great deal taller (46 inches now), and in addition to
having had your tonsils and adenoids removed, you've also said goodbye
to your four front teeth and the last inch or two of baby fat.
Your passions, interests, and explorations continue to evolve
frequently, but of late they seem to include math, astronomy, languages
(specifically French, German, and American Sign Language), and ice
skating. According to the skating teachers, you're really quite
talented! You've fallen in love with Curious George and loved singing
songs such as Firework and The Boys 'Round Here, learned in an
after-school singing class. Pretend play has also continued to evolve
for you.
After you were asleep last night, Father Bear commented on how you seem
to really enjoy your life in a way you never did before. It seems like
things that used to be so hard for you really aren't anymore, and you
seem happier. I agree with him that you enjoy your life a great deal
more, and many things are becoming easier. Many things are still quite
difficult for you and in some ways that's a good thing. You're
developing those all-important perseverance muscles, and a growth
mindset way of being in the world. More than any achievement or
outcome, it makes me proud when I see you giving your all in the face of
a challenge.
In the 8 whole days since you turned 6 you have
completely adjusted to it. Now you are excited about the fact that you
have two loose teeth and are enjoying your birthday gifts. You live in
the moment and for the next milestone.
This morning, as I
sneak my phone out to take a few notes for your birthday letter, you
have climbed into bed with me and are either asleep, or as I so often
do, you are feigning sleep. We both know the clock is ticking and soon
the day will begin. You will be dressed and fed and off to school, and I
will be on about my day.
The air is cold; the ground is
covered in snow, and the day ahead is full. No one would blame either
of us for stealing a few more minutes to enjoy the still of the
darkness, the comforting heavy blankets, and the peace in this silence
for just a little longer. But I think you're only aware of cherishing
the remaining quiet before the day ahead. I feel like I'm actively
cherishing the few sweet moments left before you decide that you're too
old to snuggle in with Ma & Pa Bear for a stolen morning nap.
It has not yet occurred to you that moments like this one aren't going
to be available forever. You haven't fully, consciously realized the
implications of what growing up means. That someday you will give Lydia
(or someone) a real ring, that you will move away, that you will fly.
To you, this moment is just stolen from the busy day ahead.
Soon there will be sleep overs and club meetings and more and more play
dates your parents don't attend. And though I've always known in theory
that those things would come, I know that more and more concretely as
you stretch and flap your wings. More and more often you tell me I'm
not needed and that I can leave when I take you to school or you walk
off with a friend or to an appointment. Those are bittersweet moments.
It gives me joy - to see your burgeoning independence, as well as a
mixture of joy and sorrow, that your parents are no longer the center of
your universe.
Last year I prayed that for just a little while
more that you would let me hold you. Thank-you for having done that,
and thanks for all these stolen moments too, but you're ready to start
working out your wings and we are as ready as parents can really be for
you to do that. So this year, I invite you to stretch and grow, take
risks and be brave enough to try. Trust that failure is safe and that
we are here to catch you when you fall. Explore this wonderful world
with your eyes, heart, and mind wide open, and trust that it IS
wonderful! Keep exploring the whole range of yourself: athleticism and
musicality, solemnity and exuberance, sense of humor and soulfulness;
and trust that you ARE wonderful! It's clear to us that you are limited
only by your willingness to try and by your imagination and your
dreams. Dream big this year, and try. Manifest. Initiate. Fly!
Love, Mother Bear
