Johanna turns 11

Sometimes I wonder how I got here.  I mean I actually lived through these eleven glorious years as a mother, it just all went by so quickly.  How did I end up here, with a lady in front of me?

Babies growing up is hard for me.  Way more difficult than I ever imagined.  I knew that little babies grow to be big ones, I just wasn't prepared for it to actually happen to me.  She's still all the things I love about her, interesting and funny and quirky and and smart and witty and inspired.  She's just packaged up all different.  Along with all those things I love, there is now also, attitude and sass and defiance and eye rolling and hurt feelings.  I'm really good at the little part, I'm not very good at the big part.  I hope she can be patient with me and forgive me when I make ALL the mistakes.


I hope I push her enough to make her soar.  I hope I let go of the things that don't matter.  I hope I can always swallow my own hurt feelings and protect hers.

I hope she always does her own thing.
I hope one day she will hang up her wet towel, instead of leaving it on the ground.
I hope she keeps twirling.

I hope she stays weird.  

I hope she always wants to hang out with me.  

I hope one day she will eat something other than plain white bread.  

I hope she sings out loud some day (even if it's just to her babies).  

I hope she never cares what others think.  

I hope she will always run toward her passions.  

I hope one day she gets to see Paris.

I hope she sticks up for the little guy.

I hope she values her friendships.

I hope she always lets me take her pictures.

I hope she keeps baking.

I hope one day she will be able to brush the back of her hair.

I hope she always has dimples in her hands.

I hope she never chooses safe instead of adventure.

I hope she always dreams BIG.
I hope she always follows Jesus.