Mya at 10





Mya is inquisitive, curious, full of imagination, emotional, and extremely smart. She is (mostly) what I hope every ten year old would be like. Daily, she runs full speed out the front door to walk the dogs the moment her backpack hits the ground. She is a loyal companion and true to at least that one job/duty she randomly assigned to herself one day. It’s sweet to watch the dogs circle the kitchen island close to the time the girls get home from school, knowing that the moment they hear heavy footsteps Mya’s home and their walk is about to begin.

She is constantly creating plays, concerts, circuses, schools, and campgrounds out of every object she can find, including her vivid imagination. Tim and I both wish that she could use more of her imagination instead of our literal decorative pieces to adorn her “forts” or “homes,” but alas, we’ve asked her a million times and no progress has been made. I adore Mya’s creativity. She includes everyone in the house, even the dogs, in the plays and concerts she creates. And everyone usually has a good time living up to her expectations, so long as no mistakes are made because then she turns into a dramatic beast. 

Mya is all drama all the time. I feel like I do so many imaginary dances around her and my words to her so as to avoid a daily heated confrontation. She generally feels attacked by anything we say or do that might have a slightly serious tone, and she cannot handle criticism. She can criticize with the best of them, but don’t you dare say anything slightly negative to her. It’s tricky. She is by far the child I use the most energy on, and it’s okay because that’s reality, but it can be hard because I just want to love her and help her be the best person she can be, but she shuts down the moment I try to give her a few tips or pointers of how things could be handled differently. 

I think the pre-teen emotions are starting to boil over the top of the pot more and more these days, and I’m learning to navigate a new way of life with her. I actually just convinced her to see a counselor because I think I lack the tools necessary for her to feel comfortable in her own skin. While we both understand each other on a deeper level because we’re both thinkers, we often clash when it comes to conflict, and it’s starting to bleed into other areas of our lives, and I’d prefer that she is happy, and if that means I’m not the person counseling her then I’m fine with it. She really is such a unique person. She wants to do the right things; I really see that in her, but for some reason the right thing doesn’t always get chosen, and it’s hard. She feels like a failure a lot no matter what I say, and that’s extremely difficult for me to watch. I’m hoping with some good direction we’ll both be on a happier path. 

The things I love about 10-year-old Mya are our conversations. When she’s not angry with me, she amazes in the things she talks to me about. She thinks about things very similarly to me, and I love having a friend at home that I can talk to about things that may be of little importance to anyone else. I love reading with Mya. We have such a good time at night discovering new worlds and words together. I also love Mya’s laugh. She laughs hardest when her dad’s around. Dinnertime is actually my favorite because she gets laughing pretty easily and then the other girls naturally follow her lead. I love that she loves maps and giving directions. I love that she loves chewing gum, but I hate that I find random wads around the house. I love that she plays with each sibling; she could care less the age difference. I love that she’d rather read than watch television. And I love that she helps me get breakfast going in the mornings before school. I often get on her about not helping a lot, but she actually does quite a bit without even being asked, and I should thank her more. 

I love my Mya. I really do.

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"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley