Bee Chalmers Photography

Dear Clara.  You are ten years old!

You have been counting down to this birthday since you turned nine a year ago.  You liken it to turning 16 or 40 or 60.  Ten is important you tell me…I am a decade, and that sounds really important. Eveyone counts by 10′s.  People always round up to 10.  I am a double digit.  I am practically a teenager!

And in many ways, you are not a little girl anymore.  Pink is no longer your favourite colour.  Too girly you tell me.  You prefer blue because it is the colour of the sea.  You don’t like to watch cartoons anymore…too babyish.  Instead you watch Wizards of Waverly Place and Monte Carlo is one of your favourite movies.  You roll your eyes if I start to sing “Baby Beluga” or “The More We Get Together,” and turn on the radio to search for Maroon 5 or Bruno Mars. You spend extra time in front of the bathroom mirror trying to brush your wavy hair straight and are already worrying about impending puberty and the pimples you might get.  You close your door now to change, and put out a sign that says “privacy please!”.  You love to shop and you take my clothes I have accidentally shrunk in the dryer.  We have the same black leggings which I’m constantly putting in the wrong closet.  I annoy you a lot of  the time, and embarrass you.  Without any warning, I have said or done something or looked at you in a way that upsets you and you march away dramatically.  You are skeptical that Santa or the Easter Bunny exists.  You begged me to tell you the truth, and that it would be “devastating” if I lied.  You ask me daily when you can read “The Hunger Games” or “Twilight.”   You had your first crush on a boy last summer, and 2 more crushes this past school year.  You are only a head shy from being taller than me.  We are 2 shoe sizes away from each other.

But in so many other ways you are still my little girl.  You still crawl into my lap and wrap your arms around me and tell me that you love me “too much.”  You still love to play with your dolls and paint your nails with glitter.  You still love to make believe and can turn our entire house into Hogwart’s School of Wizardry or a pet store/animal hospital.  You still hold my hand when we walk to school together.  Your skin still feels warm and soft to touch.  You still sneak into our bed in the wee hours of the morning because you heard a scary squeaking noise.   You dream of becoming of a famous writer like J.K Rowling.  You still leave me heartfelt notes on my pillow and pick flowers from the side of the road and tie them up with ribbon.  You think milk, cookie dough and schnitzel on a stick are all the foods you need to thrive.  You want to go to Disneyworld one day soon.  You still sleep with 12 stuffies and you sobbed when you lost your stuffed dog in the hotel in Phoenix. You sometimes slip into the bath with me at night and let me wash your hair.  You tell me that you are going to live with Daddy and I forever.  You still need a hug when you are feeling sad or overwhelmed.  And I am grateful, that for now, my arms can provide this refuge for you.  That you are still my little girl who believes in happily ever afters and who dreams big…and still gets comfort and reassurance in my embrace.  Ten is big, and sometimes a little scary and uncertain. Ten is important.  It is the teetering on the edge of childhood and the beginning of an emotional roller coaster ride otherwise known as the tween years.  I can’t wait to see what the next 10 years bring, to see who who will become.  You will be amazing…you are amazing.