Holdy, Holden (“are you mad at me?”), H Dawg, Turd:
Happy Birthday and welcome to your 11th year on this planet. Your tenth year was quite a doozy.
You went to your first “real” concert when we saw Jimmy Buffett last summer and fell in love with “Rocky Horror Picture Show last fall. This year, we’ve already seen The Avett Brothers, and we’ll be seeing The Chicks and Pink later this summer. You’ve come to like more electronica music recently, like Grimes and TV Girl.
Your Hello Kitty/Kawaii phase has ended (after you just received an entire new Hello Kitty bedroom suite for Christmas…) and you’re firmly in your emo phase. You’re now into crystals and incense and tapestries. I’ve spent the past week painting your bedroom walls, ceiling and trim “Peacock House,” a dark greenish blue. It’s giving hookah den.
You recently cut off all your own hair (with the kitchen scissors, no less). Your wardrobe has gotten darker, has 100% more moons on it, and is both tighter and baggier. You’re extremely bummed that you’re not old enough to get your nose pierced yet so we’ve been experimenting with faux rings.
It’s been a year of discovering yourself and feeling big feelings. Tbh, you’re experiencing a lot of teenage angst at the ripe ol’ age of 11 and it hasn’t been easy. We went to see “Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret?” together last month and then I bribed you to read the book. It’s the first book you read “for fun” and I think that’s fitting.
You’ve recently started writing poetry and journaling and you write really beautiful notes to your family and even to strangers, like when you filled the sidewalk outside Archetype with positive affirmations.
But all told, it’s been a rough year for you, Kid. Some struggles with school, with mean girls and bullies, and even with big questions like, “what is life all about?” I wish I could make it easier on you, but the truth is, it’s just going to have to suck for a while.
Luckily you’ve got me, and Flippy and GB, and Dad and your grandparents and family and friends who love and support you. Your best friend is currently Sam. You and GB now fluctuate between being arch enemies and close confidants hourly.
We lost your rat pals this past year, but you love to pet your buddy, Carl, who often sleeps in your room. Brutus has become a curmudgeonly old man who will sometimes share the couch with you.
You have expressed recently that when you grow up, you’d like to work with kids who have emotional issues and I love that for you. Little kids already loooove you, like Penny and Eva and Emmett. And you’re learning lots of great tools for how to handle scary emotions and work through worries. You have a big light to shine and I know you’ll share that with so many people.
So keep being your weird/beautiful/funny/gross/sensitive/creative/thoughtful/sweet self, Holdy. You’ve got an army of people who love you and will keep reminding you how awesome you are when you forget sometimes. Happy Birthday, Turd.
oh bother. blog 