Dear Chicken,

Do you know how much the mommy guilt is consuming me because I wasn’t there this morning to push the hair out of your face and just stare at your sleeping eyes for a few moments before I started to rub your back to wake you up.

In those moments in the morning when the light from the hallway is streaming through the slats on the top bunk I see glimpses of the small child you once were and the woman that you are rapidly becoming.

You would grumble and roll over and I would remind you that it was your thirteenth birthday. You may have asked for a few more minutes or you may have shot right up excited to start your day.

I will never know.

I can’t believe that you are thirteen.


I just can’t wrap my head around it.

I can’t wait for next week when we can start planning your birthday bash. I remember the excitement on your face when you figured out what theme you wanted to do.

I think it will be sweet.

And soon I will be home & I will let your rifle through my bag of stuff. You will show me what new things your puppy can do and tell me all about your concert and your game and all the fun things that you did with your dad to make your day oh so special.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for letting me follow my dreams. Thank you for just being you.

I love you my Chicken.