A Letter to my Daughter
Happy Birthday, Kiddo.
Parents like to say that the time has just slipped by, that they can't believe the kid they see is the same baby they brought home from the hospital, that it all seems like only yesterday. Well, I don't like using clichés, and I have to tell you that sometimes finding the right words without using those old adages isn't easy. The last four years have made it even harder, it seems.
I hope you'll forgive me someday for getting all squishy over you on the Internet. It's just that when I found out I was pregnant, I was mostly terrified. I thought, "[BLEEP]! Double [BLEEP]! What if I do everything wrong, like, all the time?" (Mostly I have, if anyone ever asks.) Since then, the terror has almost faded--not entirely, though, because you are one reckless little cannonball of energy, Girl. You're a mess, and I love it. When you destroy things intentionally, never eat dinner, beg to wear the same dress every day for a week, and freak out in the grocery store, I love you.
Even when you're the Monster Who Would Not Sleep, I love you. Even when you like Daddy more, I love you. Even when you call me a pickle-head (then laugh like you've never said it before), I love you. And when you wake up cranky and cry because I'm leaving for work, I love you even though I still have to go.. Trust me when I tell you I'd rather get back under the covers and watch cartoons with you instead.
Of course, I love you for the good things, too. You're funnier and taller than I expected. You're smarter and more beautiful than I'd imagined. You play harder and run faster and climb higher and dance with more abandon than I ever have. You find joy in the oddest places, always hug me back (even when you're mad), and remind me every day that I need to take a break and enjoy my time with you. By sight you recognize words like no, stop, hot, bug and Superman. You might be the happiest person I ever met, and that means your Daddy and I are tied for second.
None of the ridiculous, dangerous, heart-breaking things you do can make me love you less. I know, I know. I tried to skip that cliché and I couldn't. There's a reason phrases are overused--sometimes there's no other way to say it right. Go ahead and plot your revenge on me for telling the whole world that you run around in your underwear, chasing the cat through the kitchen and quoting lines from The Land Before Time. If you don't mind, though, I have to go. Today I'm going to fill out your enrollment forms for Pre-K, then cry in the car for an hour. I'll be home in time for our regularly scheduled mayhem.
Love,
Mommy
Parents like to say that the time has just slipped by, that they can't believe the kid they see is the same baby they brought home from the hospital, that it all seems like only yesterday. Well, I don't like using clichés, and I have to tell you that sometimes finding the right words without using those old adages isn't easy. The last four years have made it even harder, it seems.
I hope you'll forgive me someday for getting all squishy over you on the Internet. It's just that when I found out I was pregnant, I was mostly terrified. I thought, "[BLEEP]! Double [BLEEP]! What if I do everything wrong, like, all the time?" (Mostly I have, if anyone ever asks.) Since then, the terror has almost faded--not entirely, though, because you are one reckless little cannonball of energy, Girl. You're a mess, and I love it. When you destroy things intentionally, never eat dinner, beg to wear the same dress every day for a week, and freak out in the grocery store, I love you.
Even when you're the Monster Who Would Not Sleep, I love you. Even when you like Daddy more, I love you. Even when you call me a pickle-head (then laugh like you've never said it before), I love you. And when you wake up cranky and cry because I'm leaving for work, I love you even though I still have to go.. Trust me when I tell you I'd rather get back under the covers and watch cartoons with you instead.
Of course, I love you for the good things, too. You're funnier and taller than I expected. You're smarter and more beautiful than I'd imagined. You play harder and run faster and climb higher and dance with more abandon than I ever have. You find joy in the oddest places, always hug me back (even when you're mad), and remind me every day that I need to take a break and enjoy my time with you. By sight you recognize words like no, stop, hot, bug and Superman. You might be the happiest person I ever met, and that means your Daddy and I are tied for second.
None of the ridiculous, dangerous, heart-breaking things you do can make me love you less. I know, I know. I tried to skip that cliché and I couldn't. There's a reason phrases are overused--sometimes there's no other way to say it right. Go ahead and plot your revenge on me for telling the whole world that you run around in your underwear, chasing the cat through the kitchen and quoting lines from The Land Before Time. If you don't mind, though, I have to go. Today I'm going to fill out your enrollment forms for Pre-K, then cry in the car for an hour. I'll be home in time for our regularly scheduled mayhem.
Love,
Mommy
posted by Red River Family at
10:27 AM
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