Dear Jake,
At the end of April, you turned 8 years old. It's amazing to me that 8 years have passed since I first held you in my arms. At the time everyone thought you were a pretty big baby, coming out at 8 pounds 7 ounces. But as each year goes by, I realize more and more just how tiny you were--This little thing, full of joy and promise. And now, here I sit, thinking about how far you've come. How much of your potential you've already discovered.
It's interesting when I look back at older birthday letters I've written about you. From an early age, there were certain parts of your personality that already shined brightly. Your sensitivity, your affection for those you love, your natural caution, and your desire to please us come to mind first. These traits have grown more evident with each year, and this past year was no different. In addition to these great qualities, you've also become more adventurous. Your hobbies have become a bigger part of your individuality. I'd say your biggest hobbies are soccer, reading, building legos, and playing Minecraft whenever you're allowed. You've made great friends through school and church, and your teachers love you. Your dad and I love you so much, and are proud of all your accomplishments.
Since your last birthday letter, you've had 2 more seasons of soccer. We've managed to keep you together with a lot of the kids you met on your first team. Over the course of the year, we've seen you improve a lot. I would still classify you as more of a "good times player", but towards the end of Spring, we did start seeing more of your competitive aggressive side. Next year your age group becomes more intense as you move to 2 practice nights each week before weekend games. I'm excited to see you grow further in your favorite sport. We've asked if you want to try any others, but you insist that soccer is where you'd like to stay.
You continue to be an awesome big brother to Mia and Caleb. Sure, sometimes you tease them a little too much, but by and large you are a kind, helpful friend to them both. They look up to you in everything and love when you spend time with them. Right now your favorite group activities include playing Minecraft, Hide and Seek, doing art projects, and playing School.
You are a teacher. You are smart, logical, and good at explaining things. This year at school you tested into the gifted program. When assessed in the "nonverbal" part of the those tests, you scored a 99%. This means that your spacial reasoning and logic rule the way you process new information. You've been teaching Mia to read, and even work with her on basic math. I was shocked the day I found you guys playing school, and noticed a stack of "graded" papers on which Mia had completed a series of fractions. When I asked if her preschool teacher had actually started on fractions, Mia told me "no", that you had taught her. Even with Caleb, you will patiently help him learn new words and phrases and songs. I'm grateful that you guys all have each other.
Last year, we made a "family investment" and bought annual passes to Disneyland. With those, we were able to take trips with just our family, and also some with cousins and grandparents. I think in total we did 7 trips to California. We made so many special memories, and really bonded as a family.
I actually wondered if at some point, you guys would get tired of the same trip over and over, but every single visit ended with you in miserable tears over having to go back home. Thats how you are though. It wasn't just the magical place we were in (although I'm sure that made things harder). Every time something good is coming to an end, you struggle. I think it's a combination of a few things. First, you are logical and analytical. You think through and understand what a goodbye or an ending will mean. And most importantly, you are able to fully appreciate all the good things that happen to you. Whether it's leaving Utah after visiting your grandparents and cousins, or your Aunt Sydney flying back to Nashville after a short stay: you are heart broken. Every parting or unexpected change in your life pricks your heart. At the end of the school year, you found out that your beloved 2nd grade teacher was retiring. When I picked you up from school on your last day, I could immediately see from the look on your face that you were upset. Instead of feeling joyful about the upcoming summer, you were trying to accept the fact that you wouldn't be able to "drop by" and see your old teacher anytime. You didn't like the idea that she was just "disappearing", and hadn't had time to absorb the news.
Once you've had a little time to process changes though, I'm happy to see how quickly you can move forward and adapt. Although your initial reaction to "leaving Disneyland" was always accompanied by tears, once you'd taken some time to accept the change, you would tell us how you were "excited to sleep in your own bed, see Omi and Opi, and play with your toys at home again". This level of sensitivity speaks volumes about your character Jake. To me, it shows that you know how to appreciate all the good things in your life, both the temporary and the constant.
This year has come with many changes. Last November, Daddy and I sat down together with you and Mia around the kitchen table to tell you guys that I was pregnant. For the first time, I felt that you were old enough to really understand what that would mean for our family. You were excited, had lots of questions, and got on board to be helpful and supportive right away. I had a tough first trimester of being sick 24/7. You and Mia really pulled together to help me through that. You were understanding if I was too sick to get up off the couch to tuck you kids into bed--and if dad wasn't around to do it, you would volunteer to tuck in your younger siblings, complete with songs and refilling bottles of water. You often got Caleb all ready for bed, from showering to dressing, to brushing teeth. I can't count how many bowls of cereal you poured for yourself and your siblings in those hard weeks. Even when I got better, you continued to step up in your big brother role. Anything I've needed, you would make the time to help out. Your habits have really improved. Now that I'm coming to the end of this pregnancy, my huge tummy keeps me from being able to easily pick stuff up off the floor, or race up and down the stairs 20 times a day. You've truly shown us your strengths in being able to tirelessly lead your siblings in cleaning up the playroom, your bedrooms, and any other odd jobs I've asked of you. I feel really lucky to have a son like you on my team as we get ready to add another person into our family. You've rarely complained, and talk often about how excited you are to meet your new brother.
Speaking of your brother: When we first found out I was pregnant, you hoped and prayed for it to be a girl, because as usual you wanted things to be "fair". Looking out for Mia, you just wanted her to get a sister since you already had Caleb. When we found out we were having a boy, you took it the hardest. But since then, you've made your peace with it. You ask how he's doing in my belly every day, you give him "hugs and kisses", and pray for him often. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll fall into your big brother role smoothly once again when he arrives.
In this family, turning 8 is a unique and special milestone. In our LDS faith, it means that this is the youngest age at which you can choose to become a member of our church. It means that you were given the choice to be baptized. As you prepared for this important day, I was touched to see you taking it all seriously. A couple weeks before your baptism, we went as a family to pick out your very own set of scriptures. You chose a beautiful black leather-bound set, and we had it engraved with your name. I had to swallow and blink to hold back tears when your dad knelt down beside you, to teach you about taking care of those sacred pages. He told you that they were wrapped in leather, and that if you treated them with respect, they would last many many years. That one day you'd be able to take them with you on a mission for our church, where you'd have the opportunity to teach others about our Savior and about the good news of the Gospel. It was an unexpected and tender moment for me, and I can tell you, the sweet spirit I felt in that moment won't be one I'll forget.
On May 28th your dad baptized you. It was actually sort of a miracle that you were able to even do it that day. Just 24 hours before, you'd become sick and had a high fever. We had family driving into town for the weekend from Utah and flying in from Nashville, so postponing would've been really hard. We prayed that you'd feel well enough by morning. The clouds parted and you felt alright during those special couple of hours, and chose to go ahead with the plan. We gave you the option to put it off, but you were determined to have the ordinance completed. I'll remember the way you looked in that baptism font, all dressed in white, for the rest of my life.
That day you made a choice to follow our Savior in faith. It hurts in a wonderful way to see you growing up Jake. It's already getting hard to bundle you up in my lap when you cry, and looking at you, I have to squint more and more to see the little boy in you. Those big grownup teeth have changed your smile, and the growing wisdom in your eyes is slowing turning you into something all new. I have a feeling that one day I'll blink and you'll be a man. Every year I have to let go a little more. You are your own amazing person. I'm so lucky I get to be your teacher and your friend, and guiding you through these early years has been a privilege. Thanks for choosing me to be your mom-- I'm looking forward to helping you find your way through every new milestone and change. I'm grateful for your kindness, your sensitivity, and your childlike innocence. You turned me into a mom, and these last 8 years have changed my heart. We both have a long ways to go in learning about ourselves. But I feel lucky that I get to do that growing together with you. I love you Jake, more than you know.
