You are about to be 10 years old.
I know you think you aren't a kid anymore, but you are my kid. I know you hate it when I tell people stories about you, but I want to share the awesomeness that is you with everyone I see. I know you hate it when I embarass you, but it is one of the perks of having given birth to you. (Just ask Mawmaw, you haven't even SEEN embarassment yet.) I want everyone to see how wonderful you are in everything you do, so I will tell the funny stories and I will cheer you on at every baseball, basketball, football game (please no), or band concert or robotics club contest you ever enter.
I also want to protect you from pain and sadness. When something or someone hurts you it breaks my heart into a million pieces. I just want to pull you into my arms and squeeze until the pain goes away.
I know I can't do that because you think you aren't a kid anymore.
So just know that the extra hug tonight at bedtime was me saying that tomorrow will be better.