Happy 12th Birthday, Jackson!

Dear Jackson,

I'm dating this letter on your 12th birthday, but I'm not going to divulge the date I actually wrote this. (Hint: quite a few weeks months have passed!) I don't know why I've stalled in this letter writing tradition. It doesn't mean I don't celebrate you and the beginning of a new year together. I think time is simply not my friend these days. It goes too slow when I'm frustrated, and too fast when I'm elated.

For example, this first year of middle school has felt slower than molasses. You don't *quite* love 6th grade, and you make your opinion VERY clear to me in the mornings before school. It's why I stopped waking you and instead allow the Amazon Echo device to do it for me. My mornings are much more survivable when Alexa wakes you up and you yell at her instead of me!

At the same time, this first year of middle school has felt faster than a firework. The things you're learning feel accelerated and hyper-speed. Especially the advanced advanced math class that we pulled you out of after first semester because you don't need to get high school credit in the middle of middle school. (Slow it down, for Pete's sake!)

Over the last year or so, I've been diving into this thing called The Enneagram. It's a personality typology that... well, you can Google it if and when you read these letters one day and become curious. In my Enneagram education, I've had you and your sister take an online test to figure out what your number is. The caution, of course, is that you're too young to be fully one number but you can display certain qualities already that put you in that number's ballpark. So far, your type appears to be a 7, which means you are an enthusiast and an adventurer. Which means we have lots of fun and there are no two days that are the same with you. Which means you also have a hard time staying in the present moment and want to fast forward to next next NEXT!

And if that isn't a perfect description of my life as your mother this past year, I don't know what is. I have a hard time staying in the present moment with you, soaking in the realization of how far you've come in the last 12 years. Instead, I catch myself still doing the "I Can't Wait" dance of:

• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to ride his bike alone to the next neighborhood over.
• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to not get so crabby about mornings!
• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to be in control of his emotions instead of erupting them all over me.
• I can't wait until Jackson is old enough to watch Stranger Things with us.
• I can't wait until Jackson finds his sweet spot in sports, school, reading for pleasure, and hobbies. (I don't think Nerf guns count!)

See what I mean? Molasses and fireworks, slower and faster, always the extremes. So here's hoping for a little more breath and simply being in this coming year: for both you and me!

Happy birthday, my sweet Sugar Boy. Thanks for keeping me on my toes, never letting me wonder whether you adore me or not, and always being ready for a snuggle and a nose boop.

I love you,
Mommy