To my fiercest child,
You know who you are. You are the one who pushes buttons your father and I didn’t even know existed. You are the one who knows how to work EVERY system. You are ALL the forces of nature: lightning storm meets tornado only to become the most vibrant rainbow in the calmest sky.
You’re the kid with a 105 fever who carries on with your day, not missing a beat or voicing a single complaint. You’re also the kid who refuses to take your antibiotics and then strikes up a bargain, “Give me a dollar to drink it.”
When we go to school events, you’re the kid teachers rave about as being so helpful.
And you’re the kid who rushes into my room before 6 a.m. to “koala” me in cuddles, only to break into torrential tears when I apologize for having already done Wordle without you.
When I read Lyndsay Rush’s poem, “She’s a Bit Much,” you’re the kid I picture.
You are EXTRA. You are yourself, demanding and earning the most attention. You are loud, persistent, assertive, feisty, loquacious, illogical, goofy, brave, creative, independent, perceptive, and sensitive; the list could keep going.
Your siblings, father, and I sometimes do not understand how you grew into this wildly unique being. But writing it down now, I see that you took personality traits from each of us and amplified them to become your unified self.
You, my fiercest child, are a collage that is not meant to be sorted. You are my most challenging work of art. You test my patience and teach me patience. You are the one who makes me question if I’ve gotten better or worse as a mother over the years. Based on how fiercely you love me, I think you know I’m trying my best.
I’m curious about how all your fierceness will play out as you continue to grow. I see how you take risks and exude confidence, which has already served you well with easily making friends and fearlessly walking into new situations.
You, my fiercest child, know who you are. I am lucky to be a part of your force field. I am lucky to learn from you.
