My little N turned thirteen today. It’s official, we have a teenager at home now. Over the years, several experienced parents have said things to me like “oh, just wait for the teenage years”, “where is my little baby and who is this teenage shrew that’s taken her place”, “did you really think that it gets easier with time”, and other scary a$$ pearls of wisdom. With my first-born reaching thirteen, I am not sure that I agree (Well, duh, it’s been only a few hours, you say?). Au Contraire, over the past few months, it has seemed to me that little N is growing sweeter, more loving, caring, and affectionate than she has ever been. “That girl improves every day”, I have remarked to N on more than one occasion over the past year (knock on wood). She is a role model to her little sister, an upholder, who makes sure that everyone in the house (including the errant mom) eats their veggies and follows the rules.

Little N has always been a self-starter. But, in the past year, she seems to be on an increased drive. My own “little engine that could”.  Impatient to pave the path ahead – a tiger cub, ready, and asking for her parents to step up and be tiger parents. As you can tell, I am incredibly proud of my munchkin.

My dear teenager, happy 13th birthday to you! May all your dreams come true, and may this be your happiest and best year ever! Lots of love, Mommy (Note: “Mommy”, not “Mom” yet). 🙂


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