My sweet Hazel Grace,
You are seven years old and living your best life. This week alone, you went to horse camp and had multiple sleepovers with Lizzie, your cousin bestie, all before your Taylor Swift-themed party.
You are thoughtful and considerate, yet also sassy and fierce. You care deeply about your friends and have become quite skilled at navigating first-grade drama. Your teacher describes you as quiet, but I know you as wild when you’re playing with your friends. You get super excited about things and have a hard time playing it cool.
Your reading skills took off shortly after first grade began. It started with the Elephant and Piggie books, then the level-one readers, and within a month, you were diving into every book on the shelf. You prefer reading independently over listening, and I often find you with a book light long after you’ve been tucked in. I always dreamed of having an avid reader, and I think I might have one in you.
You danced all year and took piano lessons for six months. You didn’t love hip-hop class until the recital, where your love of being on stage really shone through. Your skiing skills grew by leaps and bounds this year, and you’re signed up for another season of soccer in the fall. As you love to say, “Westie is your bestie”—you two laugh and play together constantly. Your obsession with stuffed and real animals continues strong. You got your ears pierced on a whim in December. You talk about crushes often and have picked up some sass from your peers. This summer marked a big developmental leap—you became more aware of how you look and even feel embarrassed sometimes. You describe others as “trying to be cool.”
A visit with a urologist revealed that your bladder muscles are underdeveloped, which explains the urgency you’ve experienced since potty training. You’re a total snuggler and never want to be left out of anything. Your fashion sense has evolved into bike shorts and animal t-shirts, with tutus now a rare sight. Dresses are out, and stripes are a no-go.
In early September, you cut your hair at a sleepover with the Hights. You and Brady Mae were watching The Parent Trapand decided that if you cut your hair, you’d look like the long-lost twins in the movie. This was a surprisingly emotional moment for both of us. You learned that hair is just hair, but I was unexpectedly sad to see your long locks chopped into a bob. You hated the cut at first, but it did grow back quickly—an important childhood rite of passage completed.
Being your mama is a sacred gift and the joy of my life. Your enthusiasm and zest bring so much love and light to our family. You are wholly and completely loved just as you are. Keep shining your beautiful light and leaning into who you are, sister friend. I can’t wait to see all that your seventh year has in store.
xoxo,
Your loving mama
