Well... 12 years is just TOO many, thus my denial caused me to be a bit tardy with my birthday letter. Oh, Cooper. I hope it was a happy birthday oh so many days... weeks... months? (!) ago. At twelve years old, especially in the Time of Covid, birthday celebrations are less about a party with many friends from your classroom, and more about a small gathering where we indulge your (reasonable) wishes. The weather was too overcast for the planned first swim in the pool, but we had family in and catered your favorite foods and got to marvel in all 12 years of your life.
After this, it will be officially teenage years, which I have been warned can be so rough. And I think I have seen glimpses of the potential upcomgin challenges - some eyerolls, some talking back, some attitude, some pushing against boundaries and being oh so put out when your parents are too lame and go about reigning you back in. But honestly, these are brief flashes and I would be concerned if you didn't have moments of being a bit annoyed with us. Far more common my interactions with you are nothing short of delightful.
You are brilliant and throughtful, creative and curious.
You used to never stop talking, and while I still sometimes find you in a chatty mood, I am more often trying to coax details of your day out of you. You are growing up and developing some space of your own. It is as though we are both circles, and you used to be a circle that fell within the boundaries of my circle, but now we are turning from a smaller circle inside a bigger circle into a venn diagram of sorts... still one where your circle mostly overlaps with mine, but there are little parts of you that you keep only to yourself and they don't fall in my circle any more. And while I might have thought this would eviscerate me, it mostly doesn't. Sure it makes me need to catch my breath a bit, but isn't that what living as a parent is - constantly needed to stop and catch your breath? That probably doesn't make sense to anyone but me, but sometimes you understand me best.
This year has been your first year in middle school, we enrolled you in all advanced classes, the year started out online before you transitioned to in-person, which means that this year has been enough to bring most people to their knees. And you? Well, you continue your streak of all As, you have made new friends, you are eager to try out for sports next year and are just generally crushing it. Just last night I looked over a presentation you were finishing up for Social Studies - one we had offered zero assistance on - and it looked better than the work product of many grown professionals. The pride you take in your work makes me so incredibly proud.
You are an avid Simpsons fan - have been watching an episode or two a night for the better part of the year, making your way through the 20+ seasons. Your chores consist of cleaning up the table after meals and taking out the trash and recycling. You like your hair longer on top, but are amenable to us keeping it trimmed on the back and sides (this used to be a battle). You pretty much only wear t-shirts and basketball shorts or track pants. You are working on getting your mile time down (already running about a 7:30 mile). You are insanely competitive - with yourself and with others. You are mostly a good sport, though, never lashing out at others, but sometimes beating yourself up over a loss far too much. I wish you would take it easier on yourself, but easier said than done, and do as I say not as I do and all that. You finally got your braces off, and are just so handsome. You remain your sister's best friend and your brother's hero.
I love you so much, Coop. You make me so proud and happy and I continue to feel lucky every day that I get to be your Mom.
Happy Birthday, my sweet boy. May this next year be amazing.
