Abigail Turns Eight

I know I say this all the time, but there are certain ages that hit me harder than others — and for some reason, Abigail turning eight is one of them.

I think part of it is that she is my baby. She’s still so little and petite, and honestly she feels younger than Sumner and Anna Ruth did at this age — in the sweetest way. It’s hard for me to picture her as an eight-year-old. To me, she’s still my baby. I’m so thankful I can still carry her on my hip and hold her close — even though I know those days are numbered and it’s already more awkward than it used to be. I don’t take it for granted.

One of the greatest blessings of my life has been homeschooling her these last two years. While Sumner and Anna Ruth are homeschooled too, it’s been different with co-ops and shared teaching. With Abigail, it’s been mostly me and her — and our closeness has grown in such a special way. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

She is talented at just about everything she sets her mind to — horseback riding, gymnastics, dance, piano, skating, riding her bike. She is determined and motivated and does not give up. I love that about her. She is smart and responsible and does her schoolwork so well without me having to nag her. That alone is impressive!

She loves animals and science. For Christmas she asked for — and got — an ant farm, a ladybug farm, and a butterfly habitat. She once asked me to buy her a thermometer because she wanted to do experiments. She gardens. She birdwatches with her brother’s binoculars. For her birthday she asked for a microscope and a marble run… and also a slushy machine, a quesadilla maker, and a mini cupcake maker because she has big plans to run a summer business selling lemonade, cotton candy, cupcakes, popcorn, and blueberries. (The quesadillas might just be for her. 😊)

We had such a full and happy birthday weekend. Friday night was Sumner’s basketball banquet while my daddy stayed with the girls and gave Abigail her present. Saturday we loaded up a 15-passenger van and took her and four friends to Urban Air in Macon. That night Uncle David cooked steaks to celebrate Abigail and Yaya since they share a birthday. She originally asked for The Cheesecake Factory, but sweetly compromised with steak because we had such a busy weekend — and Uncle David surprised her with specialty cheesecake shipped from New York anyway. One of her friends spent the night, and Sunday we went to church and then to a Mexican restaurant — her choice — followed by an afternoon visit with my mama.

All in all, it was a wonderful celebration. I know she had a fantastic birthday — and I did too.

Dear Abigail,

I cannot believe you are eight years old. These last few days I’ve kept thinking about what we were doing eight years ago — moving out of our house, staying in Uncle David’s camper, then into the trailer that was supposed to be six months but turned into a year and a half. Through all of it, you were such a joy.

I have loved every second of watching you grow.

I hope you always know how much I love you — but even more than that, I pray you always understand how deeply the Lord loves you. My daily prayer is that you will grasp, as much as humanly possible, the depth of God’s love for you, your need for a Savior, and that Jesus is that Savior — the answer to everything.

I pray your faith grows stronger every year. I pray your heart is always quick to Him. I pray for discernment, for godly friends and mentors, and one day for a godly husband. Most of all, I thank God that He chose me to be your mama.

I love you as high as the sky and as deep as the ocean — and more and more and more.

Love,

Mama