Nearly every Thursday night, I go to a local bar and have conversation over drinks with a couple of girlfriends from work. Every few months, sometimes longer, I try to get together with a couple of girlfriends from school for conversation. The last such meeting was slightly less fun than it has been in the past because there were a few more ladies there who aren't normally and the conversation steered toward that which we all have in common: children.
Poor Maranda, who does not, in fact, have children.
And poor me, for that matter, who does, in fact, have children, but looks forward to my adult time so I can remember that I'm a pretty fun person outside of my children. That I have the occasional social need that cannot be met by taking my kids to the free weekend movie or Chuck E. Cheese.
Poor you, readers, who, if you are, in fact, still reading, just got sucked into a blog about my incredible daughter, whom I gave birth to ten years ago today. Instead of telling you how beautiful, intelligent, funny, and intuitive Jenna is, I'll tell you all of the things I've come to appreciate about being the mother of such an amazing human being.
*When we go to a museum, she isn't happy unless she can read every word on every sign explaining the things she's seeing. In between signs, she wants to talk about them.
*Every night, I get to listen to her say "One more, PLEASE!" when we get to the end of the chapter of whichever book I'm reading to her, books that most kids her age wouldn't want to read. Only, she does because it's special time with me.
*When we go on long car rides, she never loses fuel to talk about the environment. In the strangest way, I feel so content when I can't answer her questions anymore because I just don't know the answers. The fact that she's smarter than me is so calming.
*When she comes home from school and tells me that she sat next to the outcast at lunch because no one else would and they talked about his cat, I know she heard me when I told her that she'll have more friends if she's nice to everyone than if she's only friendly with certain kids.
*When she bursts downstairs with her five year old brother in tow and exclaims, "Mom, Alex can read this whole book by himself!" I pretend not to notice when she whispers words he forgot in his ear and smile widely as I tell her she's a better teacher than I am.
*When we go roller skating, she has a look on her face that she's the most important person in the world because she's holding my hand.
For all the mistakes I've made, I've spent the last ten years doing something right.
Happy Birthday, Jenna!
Here she is, helping me fill out postcards to send throughout Southeast Michigan, encouraging people to vote.