Dearest Little Person,
You amaze me. I marvel that you’re here. You and I both made it through your traumatic birth, and those incubator days, and nursing around the clock, and NICU visits, and sleepless nights, and wailing episodes, and crazy Costco runs, and Christmas living-room dance jams, and all the rest of it. We’ve been through a lot already and you’re just 15 months!
You crack me up, too, you know that? You’ll look like your dad with that low scowl as if “caution” is written across your forehead and then the next minute you’ll look like me with a Cheshire grin and a twinkle in your eye. So are you both stubborn and charming? That’s okay if you are…. I’m already trying to understand you and we’re nowhere near the 15 year old eye rolls.
You know what your favorite thing to do is every morning? Or really this applies to any time you wake up and I lift you out of the crib- You love to wave and say “Hi!” to all your teddy bears and American Girl dolls and Barbies on the shelf. I swear those toys are smitten by you. Tonight we read a farm animals book about the sounds they make and at the end of the book I asked you what sound you make and you piped out, “Hi!!!” I’m pretty sure that was your first word….
Or maybe your first word was “Mamamamamamamama!!!” which you seem to enjoy shouting in irritation of not getting enough food or waiting two more minutes in your playpen for me to finish vacuuming. You’re certainly not a demanding little person, so don’t get that impression; let’s just say you know my title and you ring it well when in need ;P
You are absolutely thrilled with your Daddy, and my guess is, by the time you read this letter yourself, that you’ll still be thrilled with him. He’s your Prince Charming, your Hero, your buddy-ol-pal, your wrestling match. Your face just lights up when he walks in the room. It’s the sweetest thing to watch my daughter adore her daddy. He is so so good to you and he wants the very best for you; he will protect you no matter what; he’s always got your back; he’ll teach you all the self-defense skills; he may or may not interrogate all your boyfriends; and he thinks you and your sister Heidi are the most beautiful girls ever. You’ve got a gem for a Daddy.
I pray with you every night and typically the prayer goes like this: “Thank you, God, for this day and for this night. Give us your wisdom and your understanding. Bless us with good rest. May we know you and love you. Protect Daddy and all our family. Praise you, Jesus, for being full of grace, and so so kind, and for taking care of our every need. Amen.” You’re not old enough yet to say “amen,” but you seem to understand the significance of talking to the Creator. Tonight I asked Gunner, who never lets you go to bed without spending the last few minutes of the day by your side, to lie down so that we could pray. He obediently, reverently crossed his paws with his jowls hanging and his eyes closed as if in silent communion.
You have such a good life, Little Person, and my constant prayer is that by the time you read this you’ll still have a good life. I was saying to your dad earlier today that life is a test… Shit happens, stuff goes down that no one would wish for, and there will always be unanswered questions; but the test is- what do you believe when the sun is shining AND when the storm winds blow? What holds you fast no matter the changing seasons or heavy gales? Do you know that God is there, no matter what, and do you trust him to get you through the beautiful and the ugly? That’s it. That’s the test. That’s really all there is to life.
-MamaIn the hands of the potter,