Happy Second Birthday Baby Girlie!

Oh babyGirlie, how you have grown!  This was just a year ago...

 Happy Second Birthday to the most sweet and sassy,

Messy and Mischievous, 

 

Smart and Stubborn,  

 

Strong and Silly,

 

Fierce and Determined 

 

 Two Year Old I Know! 

I love you, silly monkey!

A Letter to my son on his 18th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday.

My Darling Boyo,

Oh, my baby boy.  You are an adult now.  But you are still my baby.  I hope you know that you will always be my lil guy, even as you are picking out colleges and completing your last year of high school.

I thought long and hard about what I want to tell you now that you are 18.  I still haven't quite figured it out.  I am misty eyed as I write this -- thinking about 18 year old you, the adult (who is still in high school, though, so my rules still apply) and comparing the mythical him to the very real 4 year old I dropped off at preschool today.

At four, you have such a determination about you.  Your dad calls it stubbornness.  There is some of that too, but I see it as determination.  I hope you carry that into your adult life -- the determiniation and willingness you have to finish what you start, to see it through, and to do it right.

You are also such a sweet, silly preschooler.  I hope you are still sweet and silly, that you don't lose the ability to laugh with others and at yourself -- but never at others.

You are so delighted to see me when I pick you up, and you are such a social little guy.  Your friendliness and openness, your ability and willingness to introduce yourself to people you don't know, to talk and to play with them, will get you far in life.  PLEASE don't lose that.

The day is coming soon when you will leave.  Where I will no longer be your favorite person, no longer shake you out of bed in the morning, no longer be a part of your day to day life. There will be college and a career, some tramp girl who steals your heart, children, and so much more.  Knowing that our time is limited, I weep.  And I think, "Have I taught you all you need to know?  Have I covered all the bases?  Have I done my job?  Are you ready for this life?"

So as you stand on the cusp of your adult hood, your manhood, I have some advice for you, my son.  

Be smart.  Book smart, yes.  Gut smart -- even better.  If something feels wrong, it most likely is.  Trust yourself.

Say it.  Too often, men are told that to be strong, they must be silent.  I call bullsh@# on this one.  Say what is on your mind and in your heart.  Tell people when they are right.  Tell them when are wrong.  Tell people when you are angry.  Tell people when you are happy.  Tell people when you are sad.  Communicate.  

 Don't be afraid to fight -- but fight fair.  Don't be afraid to apologize first when necessary -- it's a sign of strength, not a white flag of surrender.   I'm raising you to be a strong man -- that means not being afraid of strong women.  Remember, your mom, your sisters, and (someday) your wife are all strong women -- it takes a strong man to stand up to them (remember what I said about fighting fair).  It also takes a strong man to let them take the lead.  Not all the time, but about 50% of the time.  And be a gentleman -- a woman can be strong and still want you to hold the door open for her.

Go big.  Even if you fail.   It takes courage to try when you are facing defeat.  Fail spectacularly.  And then get it right.  But remember -- there is no such thing as perfect.  Challenge yourself. 

Live a creative life.  Be wrong.  Be bold.  Be good.  Be nice to people. Be hopeful.  Be glad.  Be happy.  Be thankful.  Take chances.  Have adventures.  See the adventures in the ordinary -- you could be missing something extraordinary by not paying close enough attention.  Be curious.  Remember you have the freedom to choose -- but you must live with the choices you make.  Make your life matter.  Make the world better than when you found it  -- it matters not if you do this through big things or little things, so long as you do it.  Remember to pray.  Work hard.  Your life is your message to the world -- what do you want to say?

Remember you can talk to me about anything.
And I will always love you,

Love,
Mom 

The Story of Jesus' Birth

My older two had chapel today where Father read them the nativity story.  They recounted it for me on the way home:

Girlie: Mary and Joseph were married and going to have a baby named Jesus.  They decided to go on a vacation, but the hotels were all full because of the convention.

Boyo: So they had to sleep in a barn.  And it smelled like poop!  Isn't that silly?

Girlie: I'M TELLING THIS STORY!  So Baby Jesus came and He was God.  And the angels came and told the sheep that the baby was here.

Boyo: IT'S MY TURN TO TALK!  And there was a star.  And the smart men came from the star.

Girlie: Like aliens.

Boyo: BE QUIET! I'M TELLING IT! Um... I don't know.

Girlie: So they brought presents...

Boyo: But Baby Jesus didn't get a train.  Or a Darth Maul lightsaber.

Girlie: No, he got lotions.  Like for his butt rash.

Boyo: And the angels came back to the smart men.  And told them to go to tell a lie.  Lying is bad, right Mommy?

Girlie: No, no, no.  They HAD to lie.  So Baby Jesus wouldn't get hurt.  Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus went to 'Gypt.  I think to build a pyramid.

Boyo: And that is why Santa Claus comes! 

Happy Fourth Birthday Boyo!

Happy Birthday to my crazy and creative, 

 

Super sweet and super silly, 

Loving and Exhausting, 

Goofy and Giggly,

Four Year Old Guy! 

I love you Boyo! 

A Letter To My Daughter on Her 13th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write a letter to them when I was pregnant, one when they were born, and one every year thereafter on their birthday. Given that I am two weeks away from my due date, I figured I should probably write BabyGirlieGirl's now...

Hello My Darling Girl...

You are not here yet -- that is, you are very much a presence, but as I write this, you are still nestled inside of me, warm and comfortable, listening to the beating of my heart.  I can't imagine what 13 year old you is like -- I have tried, but all I can see is the baby snuggled in my womb, the baby who gets the hiccups at 2 in the morning and wakes me up, the baby who is attempting to punch her way through my belly button right now, the baby I am desperate to meet.

Unless God has another plan for your father and I, you are our last child.  My last pregnancy.  The last time I will feel a child move inside of me.  You are our baby.  And you complete our family.

I always wanted four children.  And your dad did too -- at least, he said he does.  Even when we thought we were done having children after your brother was born, I always knew that we had more children waiting for us to get our act together.  So know that you are wanted, and loved, and necessary.  Your timing was a surprise, yes, but a blessing just the same -- I wouldn't trade you or your timing for anything.

I am afraid that I don't know much about being the fourth child.  Your dad does, and he says it's no big deal.  Your Aunt Megan does, and she says it's a very big deal.  So I am going to assume that the line is somewhere in the middle.  Know that I love you just as much as I love your brother and sisters.  And that I will always try to be fair, but life isn't always fair -- but I will do my best to make your life within our family fair.

What do I hope for you, my baby girl?

I hope you know that you are beautiful.  Yes, I write that without having the slightest clue as to what you look like (although the last ultrasound showed you didn't have any hair, like your older brother and sister).  I want you to know that you are beautiful because you are mine and your father's -- you are beautiful because you are ours.

I hope that you are strong -- not just physically (although as the baby, I am sort of expecting -- and dreading -- the fact that you will probably be able to knock your brother and sisters on their butts), but mentally and emotionally.  I hope you have a strong sense of self -- that is something your father and I will strive to give you every day.  You don't have to agree with us all the time.  You don't have to try to make everyone happy -- you can't.  But I hope you can make yourself happy.

With that being said, I hope you are not selfish.  Yes, you are a teenager.  Yes, you probably think the world revolves around you.  It doesn't.  The world is bigger than you are -- I hope you can recognize that and take an active part in trying to make the world better -- this will make you better too.

I hope you know that I can't fix everything.  I wish I could.  I wish that you could come to me with every hurt and I could wave a magic wand to make it go away.  But I can't.  In order for you to grow, and learn, and be who God intends you to be, sometimes all I can do is wipe away your tears, listen to your sorrows, hold you while you cry, bake you cookies, and pray that will be enough.  And I hope you know that even if I can't fix it, I want to know about it -- sometimes talking about the hurt can be enough.  

I hope that you are smart -- and that you realize that acting dumb is stupid.  Knowledge is power, my love.  Don't waste or pretend not to have yours.

And as you enter your teenage years, I hope you realize that girls can be mean.  So can boys.  So can people.  Don't hang out with those people.  They don't deserve you.  And don't be a mean girl.  Treat people with kindness.  Live so that no one can say anything bad about you. 

Lastly, I hope you know that I am trying my best.  I know I make mistakes and yell and I am not always the mother you deserve.  I am sorry.  I love you and your sisters and your brother more than you will ever know (until you have children of your own).  I want to be better for you.  You make me better.  I hope you know that -- that you make a better mother, woman, and person.

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything and I will always love you.

Love,

Mom

A Letter to My Daughter on her 15th Birthday

 To My Darling Baby Girlie:

Happy Fifteenth Birthday, my love!  While I don't know what you are doing today, I do know what you were doing 13 years ago -- celebrating your first birthday!  You have grown so fast, my angel.  I get a little weepy when I think about how fast this year has gone by.

You are such a joyous, strong baby.  You are my girl, through and through.  And when I think of one year old you, I can only quote Shakespeare: "Though she be but little, she is fierce."  And you are fierce, and strong, and vocal.  You don't put up with your brother and sister's shenanigans, but want to join right in.  You don't seen to understand that you are younger than them and don't have the capabilities they do yet -- nothing will slow you down.  You constantly keep me on my toes - every day is a different adventure to keep you safe.  You are active and brave and adventurous like your brother, and talkative and sweet and cuddly like your sister.  Together, this makes you uniquely your own -- a funny little one year old who is determined not to be left behind but still wants her Momma to be with her always.

You make me smile and laugh -- you are so stinkin' cute and I don't know what I would do without you.  Not a day goes by that I don't marvel at you.  I hope you realize that you are a miracle -- you expand my heart in ways that I didn't know were possible.  You (and your brother and sisters) are the closest I will ever come to creating magic.

I know life is hard right now -- to say that the teenage years suck is an understatement.  I can only hope that you are still as brave and adventurous and talkative and sweet at 15 as you are at 1.  And I know that this is a time of change and peer pressure and you may think at times that I hate you -- I could never hate you.  I will always love you so much.  I may not always understand you, but I will always love you.  And while I may not always approve of the choices you make, I will always be proud of you.

I hope you know that you don't need expensive clothes or a new whatever or a different body or whatever you think you need.  You can want those things and work for them.  But what you need to grow and blossom is simple: be kind to yourself.  Be your biggest fan.  Smile.  Laugh.  Think.  Say no.  Say yes.  Imagine.  Create.   Don't be afraid of what other people think about you -- set your own terms.  Be silly.  Be smart.  Be human.  Don't try to be perfect -- but always try to be happy.  Be your own hero.  And don't let anyone take your smile away.

Life is hard - I'm not going to lie.  But it's worth it.  Live your life well. 

I love you, my sweetheart.    I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

Love,

Mom

A Letter To My Daughter on her 19th Birthday....

Happy Birthday, My Darling Girl!!

Today, you are a five year old, sweet princess who refuses to wear anything but skirts and dresses and will put up a fuss if they aren't pink and/or purple.  You are so big, now, my angel baby!  You are growing further and further away from me and I see your blossoming independence in the little things -- get yourself dressed in the morning and brushing your own hair, getting your own snacks, buckling your seatbelt by yourself.  I know that when you start kindergarten in September, I'm going to be bawling all the way home.  I cling to the few remnants of "babyhood" you still allow me -- climbing in our bed in the middle of the night, snuggling me when we are watching TV, crawling up on my lap for a story.  These times are  fleeting now as you grow up, and it makes me cherish them all the more.  I hope you know that, whether your are 5 or 19, you can still come talk to me about anything or cuddle up with me.

You are so good with your baby sister -- you love her a little to vigorously sometimes, but it is clear you adore her.  I hope the 19 year old you still adores her.  And you tolerate your brother's incessant demands on your time and are (mostly) patient with him -- again, I hope the 19 year old you is still like that.  You have an answer for everything -- and your explanations are often hilarious and matter of fact.  For example, you told me today that I can't bend down to pick up your toys because the baby might fall out.  So therefore, we don't need to clean up.  Nice try, kid.  And you aren't afraid to ask questions -- your curiosity (as much as it makes me nuts sometimes) is a gift to be cherished and nourished.  You love to color and paint and create -- your artistic ability is one of your greatest gifts.  

I am trying to imagine what 19 year old you is like and I can't think about grown up you without my throat going tight and my eyes filling with tears.  So I can only tell you what I hope for you:

I hope that you are patient with people who irritate you.  And that you love vigorously.  And that you still ask questions and offer explanations to those who don't understand.  I hope you still create.  I hope you still look for fairies and see the magic that exists in the world.  I hope you still read fairy tales.  I hope you believe.  I hope you know how to take time for yourself, to finish what you start, and to at least try.  I hope you know that there is no dishonor in failure, as long as you gave it your best.  I hope you know your self worth lies in who you are and how you act, not in who you are with or how you look.  I hope you know that you are stronger than you think you are.  I hope you  laugh.  I hope you are happy.  I hope you know that your father and I love you.

I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything,
I love you,

Mom

A Letter to My Son on His 17th Birthday

My Darling Boy,

First of all, I hope you know: I am so proud to be your mom. I am certain that I am just as proud to the be the mother of 17 year old Boyo as I am of 3 year old Boyo.

My three year old son is my guy - my sweet, funny, smart, I'm-gonna-make-you-want-to-slam-your-head-into-the-wall-at-least-once-a-day-guy. I hope my 17 year old son is the same way.

Right now, you are frustrating and fun. Every day brings at least one temper tantrum. And one "I no want you!" And one fight with your sister. But every day also brings at least one sweet hug, where you run up to me, give me a hug, smile up at me with your angel smile, and then run away. The entire process takes two seconds. But my heart melts into Momma goo every time. And every day brings at least one "I lob you." And at least one kiss on my hand. And at least one "Come snuggle wid me, Mom." And every day brings a lot of giggles.

You marvel me. I want you to know that - you are a marvel. Watching you learn about the world, watching your sense of wonder - you are so inspiring and amazing. You can't sit still for a five minute story, but you will lie on the ground to watch a trail of ants for an hour if I let you. You answer every question with "I don know!" followed by the incessent: "Why?"

I marvel at your curiousity, at your imagination, at your sense of wonder. You make me do things I forgot I knew how to do. You make me see. You make me see the butterflies dancing in the air, the lizard in the bush, and the white clouds overhead. You make me stop rushing through life and enjoy it. You make me wonder and question and love more deeply than I ever thought possible. Thank you for that.

You are 17 now - life is coming at you hard. So be kind to your sisters. They will be with you a lot longer than I will. Protect them. Your father and I are going to make damn sure all of you can take care of yourselves, but there is something to be said for having a sibling who will fight your battles for you when you are tired. Fight their battles on occassion, and they will return the favor. Let them.

What else can I tell 17 year old you? Go out with your friends. Be stupid. Be 17. And know when to walk away. If you are drinking, call me. Don't drive; I'll come get you. And I'll try not to judge (i.e., yell) until you're sober. If you get arrested, call your father.

Work hard in everything you do. Question. Learn. Get involved in something. If you play sports, play hard. And know that it's okay if you are not the best. And if you are the best, don't be an ass to those who aren't. Help them be better - it will make you better. And, this is important, if you don't play sports, know that you are not less of a man for it. Pay attention to what is going on around you. The world is bigger than you.

Who you are now is not who you were when you were three and it is not who you are going to be in another 14 years. Believe in yourself - remember that you are the driving force behind the person you will become. The choices you make with your life matter - now is the time to start thinking about what is important to you. I'm not saying you have to figure out your life at 17 (please God, no) but you should start thinking about what you want out of life. And know that if you don't like who you are becoming, you can change your direction. Change is inevitable. Be brave enough to change.

Life is scary, and at times it is alternately going to make you gloriously happy, furiously angry, and depressingly sad. And that is okay. It's okay to be happy. It's okay to be mad. It's okay to be sad. And it's okay to be scared. Just don't let being scared, or mad, or sad stop you from being happy.

Happy Birthday, my son. I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

I love you,

Mom

Happy Birthday Boyo!!

Happy Birthday to my sweet and snuggly,

funny and frustrating,

active and awesome,

too-smart-for-your-own-good,

only-happy-when-you-are-messy little man!

I love you, Bug!

A Letter to my 14 year old Daughter

I wrote this while I was in the hospital with Baby K - I will give it to her on her 14th birthday.

~

To my darling daughter,

Happy "Birth"day, my sweet little one! I can hardly believe that you are here! Your father is snuggling with you on what passes for a couch at the hospital, and you are looking around, your eyes blurry and blue, wondering what on earth has happened to you. You were safe and warm in your dark little world, and now you are surrounded by light and noise and it must be very, very confusing to you. I am amazed that you are not crying - I know I certainly would be. I sense an inner strength and calm about you, and I can't help but wonder if I am looking at the beginning of your personality.

Instead of fussing though you turn your perfect little head to whatever new noise you hear or light you see, and a quizzical expression comes over your face. I cannot wait to show you this new world, my darling, and to teach you how to navigate it.

I must tell you, my sweetheart - you were completely, totally, 100% worth the wait. You were worth the bedrest, the tests, the medication, the worry -- you came in your own time, and you are perfect. I hope that you never feel as though I didn't want you - you are brilliant and the only things I can honestly say I wanted as much as I wanted you are your brother and sister.

After you were born, your father and I studied your tiny little nose, your wrinkled little ears, your delicate hands and your perfect little eyebrows. We looked into your precious blue eyes and exclaimed over your dark, thick hair. We debated who you looked like - did you have your sister's lips or your brother's eyes? Did your hair come from your Gam-Gam? Finally, your father summed it up perfectly. "I know who she looks like," he declared. "She looks like herself."

And he's absolutely right. You do look like yourself. You are yourself. You aren't your sister or your brother. You are your own person, and I hope that I never forget that. I hope that I can remember that moment after your birth, when your father pointed out that you are yourself, for the rest of your life so that I do not make unfair comparisons to your brother and sister. And let's face it, any comparison would be unfair - to you and to them. You are yourself. You are brilliant. You are beautiful. And, most importantly, you are loved.

Welcome to the world, little one. I know you are ready to meet the it; I hope the world is ready for you.

I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.
Love,
Mom

Happy Birthday America! I hope you enjoy your Tinkerbell candle.

~
Today's the Fourth of July.

It's my absolute favorite holiday (that doesn't involve presents, if we are being honest).

And as a history teacher, with her MA in Colonial America, this is one holiday that I really want to try to make special for my kids.

We normally go to a bbq, eat the required hamburgers, hot dogs, and potato salad, see the parade and go to the carnival, then head over to the family fireworks festival where we live. The kids get to stay up late and watch the fireworks and I tell them the (watered down) version of America's Independence and the story of Molly Pitcher (I leave out the part about Molly Pitcher being a drunk).

We don't get to do any of that this year because of the bedrest mandate. We are having a bbq at home, but there will be no fireworks, parade, or any other family traditions. To try to make up for this, I tried to put it into a different context for them: I told them that the Fourth of July is America's birthday.

My son immediately asked for cake.

This was an idea I could totally get behind.

I found a recipe for diabetic cake (um, yum, I guess) and pulled out all the ingredients. We were about to start a new family tradition - birthday cake for America's birthday.

Girlie threw a fit. "NO!" she declared, stomping her foot. "We DO NOT make cake for America. Her MOMMY makes her cake. And they have Tinkerbell candles and a Tinkerbell balloon."

Okaaaaaaaaay.... Great Britain? We would like a chocolate cake with pink frosting, please. And sprinkles. And a Tinkerbell candle. And a balloon.

Thanks.

Happy Independence Day, everyone!

"The United States is the only country with a known birthday."
- James G. Blaine

A Letter to my daughter on her 18th Birthday

My darling daughter,

Oh my Baby Girl. You are an adult now. The mom part of my brain is screaming "Age is just a number," but the woman part of my brain is rationalizing, "She's an adult. You've done it."

I hope I have. I hope your father and I have raised you to be a strong, independent woman.

However, I hope you realize that being strong, intelligent, independent, talented is worthless if you are not kind. I hope that we have taught you to be kind to others and generous to those less fortunate than you. I hope that we have taught you to smile in the face of adversity, and to say please and thank you even when you have to kick some ass.

I hope you are happy. Genuinely, laugh out loud happy with your life. I also hope that you know that you cannot be happy all the time but that you realize happiness is a state of mind you control. And sometimes curling up into a ball and having a good cry can make your happiness even brighter - crying can clean the soul to make you appreciate it more.

I hope you know that you can be both pretty and smart. And so can your friends. I hope you ask questions and are curious. I hope you never want to stop learning. And if a question is asked and you know the answer, don't be afraid to offer the answer.

I hope you put yourself out into the world without fear and reservation.

What advice do I have for you, my darling daughter?

While I do not know if you are heading off to college right now or if you are trying to figure your out life, I do know that whatever you are doing, I hope you are doing something with your life to make a life of value. And if you don't know what that is right now, don't worry, you will. I don't expect you to have a life plan right now. And if you do know what it is, I am sort of expecting that you will change your mind. And that is okay. I want a lifetime of happiness for you, not just short term happiness.

So, as you prepare to go off to college/travel/take a year off, here is some advice to get you through the transition to adulthood.

1. If you're asking yourself if you should have one more drink, the answer is no. I'm not even going to address the fact that you aren't 21 yet - I'm not stupid.

2. Before you take that picture of yourself, put on that outfit, or do that "crazy thing that everyone else is doing" ask yourself - would you want to show or tell your Dad about it? If the answer is no, don't do it.

3. If you haven't worn it in a year, give it away. Except for jewelry and fancy dresses.

4. Count your blessings. At the end of every day, close your eyes and give thanks. Maybe you will give thanks to God, or Mary, or whatever spiritual being you believe in. But give thanks. It will make your dreams that much sweeter.

5. Read the fine print. Your signature means something. Make sure you know what it means and what is required of you.

6. It's okay to say you don't know. I don't expect you to know everything. No one knows everything. Pretending to know everything just makes you an ass. Be human.

7. You only get one body. Love it and take care of it.

8. You don't have to let boys win.

9. It's the scary decisions that really matter.

10. If you do get married some day, marry someone like your father: funny, intelligent, warm, kind, and, most importantly, madly in love with you.

Lastly, my 18 year old, grown up daughter, remember: this is your one life. You will mess up. You will get second chances. But you don't get a "do-over." You were created out of love, but the rest of it - this life - is your journey. Make it a good one that you can be proud of.

I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

I love you,
Mom

Happy Fourth Birthday Girlie!!

Happy Birthday to the sweetest,
happiest,
funniest,
lovingest
four year old Girlie I know! I love you, Punkin Pie!

Happy Second Birthday, Little Dude!

~
Happy Birthday to my car-loving, Princess-Aurora-watching, gun-toting...


...why-walk-when-you-can-run?, why-stand-when-you-can-climb?...

... so-sweet-you-are-sticky, messy little boy!


I love you, Boyo!
Happy Birthday!

Surprise!

~
I know that it's the day before my son's second birthday. I know I should have waited. But I was so excited about his present, I just couldn't. My husband and I agreed to let him have his present early.

He was not nearly as impressed as we thought he would be.

What did we ultimately decide to get him?

A little brother or sister.

Maybe he was upset because he has to wait until July to really get his present?

To My Daughter on Her 17th Birthday

Before my children were born, I decided to write letters to them that they could open on their birthdays. Since I figured they would not be able to read when they were born, I addressed the letters with instructions to be opened starting on their 13th birthday. I wrote a letter when I was pregnant, a letter on the day the baby was born, and I write a letter every year on their birthday. My daughter's third birthday was two weeks ago, so she gets to open this when she is 17...

My Darling, Preciousest Baby Girl:

You are such a BIG girl. I know that you are 17 now, and I can't wait to meet the adult you are becoming, but right now you are my precious little 3 year old daughter who likes to tuck in her baby dolls and pet my hair, who loves to cuddle on my lap while watching Princess movies and who takes my hand with a "Come ON Mommy" while you drag me over to come color or play with you, and who demands "Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-La" and "Baby Mine" lullabies every night and throws a fit if I try to sing them out of order.

You are the most interesting little person. You are kind to your brother - mostly - and so talkative. You are also such a little ham with a big, infectious giggle. You can be a little shy at first, but once you warm up to a person or situation, look out! You are so friendly and loving! I worry that you are too friendly sometimes, that you might get hurt because you are so open and willing to be friends with people, but then I remember how painfully shy I was and realize that your way is better. You are also a bit of a bossy, stubborn little thing. Some people might think that is bad, but I think it's a good thing. Women in this world need to be a little bossy and stubborn; we need to be the leaders future generations can count on. So be bossy and stubborn -- it shows that you know your own mind and are not afraid to speak up. But please temper these qualities with the ability to think and compromise. Don't order people around just because you can and don't hang on to a belief/practice that you know is wrong. It's okay to change your mind once you get more facts.

I start to cry when I think of you reading this letter in 14 years... you are my little girl and I don't want you to grow up; I love you so much and the thought of losing this little girl actually causes me physical pain. But I know that I will love the kindergartner just as much, if not more, and the elementary age sweet girl just as much, if not more, and my preteen and teenager daughter just as much, if not more, as I love my 3 year old baby girl. And I can't wait to see what the future brings.

If I am doing my math right, you are going to be entering your senior year of high school this year. And I remember well how hard that year is -- not necessarily in terms of schooling, but in terms of standing at the cusp of adulthood; you are no longer a child but are not quite an adult yet either. I know that to you, my 17 year old daughter, I may seem overbearing and demanding, probably uncool and difficult. Try to understand that it is because I love you and I can't bear to let you go just yet.

What do I hope for you, my 17 year old daughter? I hope that you are not afraid to speak your mind. That you continue to be kind and friendly. That you are strong in spirit and self. That you still have an infectious giggle and are loving. I hope you have style and grace. And I hope you kick ass when needs be, but are not afraid to let others take the reins now and again. I hope you know how to relax and how to study, that you can have fun and be responsible, that you can be smart and silly, that you can be strong and gentle. I hope you know that you can come talk to me about anything and that you and I have a good relationship of love and trust. Mostly, I hope you know that I am proud of you and that I love you so so so so much.

I love you, my preciousest babiest girl,

Mom

Birthday Party

~
My daughter's birthday party was yesterday.

I'm happy that she was thrilled with her presents, the cake, the locale.

I'm pleased that I didn't completely lose my mind planning and hosting a party for a bunch of 3 year olds and under.

But what I'm REALLY proud of?

That this...

became this....

which became this...

Happy Third Birthday Baby Girl!!!

To my darling THREE YEAR OLD daughter:

You are my preciousest, messiest baby girl!

I love you, Jelly Bean!
Happy Birthday