Three weeks early, she arrived. There were times I didn't think we'd survive her toddler years, or even her preschool years, and yet here we are.
This summer on our beach trip, she had fallen off her bike. Barefoot, I ran over to pick her up off the ground and comfort her. She was still gulping on tears as I walked across the little yard to the rental house. I stepped on a spiny plant and got a foot full of thorns. I yelped and hobbled to the porch to inspect the damage. Within seconds she was by my side, having completely forgotten her own hurt in her concern over mine. She tenderly picked some twenty thorns out of the sole of my foot, apologizing if it hurt, asking me constantly, "Are you ok, Mommy?"
She loves. She is deeply empathic.
She loves to create. She's always drawing, cutting, pasting, gluing. Always bringing me something new to decorate my office. Everything she makes is beautiful, colorful, expressive. She is a true artist at heart.
She loves animals, and they love her right back. My cat Juliet isn't really my cat anymore. She'd rather be with her little Amazon queen, curled up and purring. The dogs, too. They love to be near her, to lay on her bed or on the floor near her. She is always petting them, hugging them, whispering her affection.
She's tall. A full head and a half taller than most of her friends, and growing like a weed. She's grown a full inch since this May. Keeping her in clothes is keeping me in the poor house and I don't mind it for a second.
She's determined to be her own person. She put pink streaks in her hair this summer, because she wanted to, not because her friends did it too. Now the pink is fading and she wants to replace it with purple.
She is beautiful. When she smiles, the world around me blazes with light. When she laughs I hear the beautiful music of angels. When she's engaged in playing and shouting with joy and laughter, I have to laugh too. She makes me smile, all the time.
She loves to sing, and she sings all the time, off key and with vigor. When I sing to her at bedtime, she sings along:
You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold
You're mommy's little girl to have and to hold
A precious gem is what you are, and you're daddy's bright and shining star
You're the spirit of Christmas, my star on the tree,
You're the Easter Bunny to daddy and me
You're sugar you're spice, you're everything nice
And you're Mommy's Little Girl
(Yes, we changed the words. It suits us to do so)
I am so proud of my daughter. I love every single thing about her, her heart, her mind, her beautiful thick brown hair and her amazing smile, her long legs and her freckled nose. I love her quick mind, her big heart and her tight hugs. I love her so much it takes my breath away.
Happy birthday, baby girl.
