(All photos taken and letter written on Toddler’s actual birthday – January 1, 2011. We were in South Carolina for some family fun.)

Dear Toddler,

Today you are four. No longer a toddler. A big girl indeed.

[I sit here both at a loss for words and swollen with them, full of things to say and paralyzed by the perceived enormity of this moment, this day. When you are older, you will better understand these pretentious, paradoxical musings. Enjoy the ignorance of youth, my babe.]

Last year, I wrote you a birthday letter. And in just one year you have changed so much. Today you are tall and wiry, your hair an impossible tumble of golden curls I can’t bear to cut. Today you wear glasses, funky metal frames that highlight your big blues, your studious silliness. I cannot imagine you without them. Today you have real passions. For animals and adventure, for people and purple, for drawing and dinosaurs. Moments ago, you skipped to me – in your yellow stegosaurus sweatshirt – a Christmas gift – that you’ve donned for the past three days – and you handed me a picture of a stegosaurus, detailed and delightful. Look, Mommy, Look what I made!

Today you are smart and sensitive, fierce and focused. A kind friend. A wonderful big sister. A darling daughter. You are generous and funny, full of confidence and curiosity, creativity and cool. You are so much fun and I am nothing but proud.

A few hours ago, you did something. I tucked you and your sister in your bedroom for afternoon naps so you could stay up late celebrating with your cousins. I flipped the light and blew kisses and then climbed into bed myself. I opened my book and read. Within minutes, I heard my favorite word in the form of a whisper.

Mommy.

It was you. I crept into your room. You were sitting on the edge of the bed and you told me you weren’t tired. I grabbed your little hand and pulled you with me. I lifted you and placed you on Daddy’s side of the bed. You settled in, your spine pressed against mine. And in minutes you were out. Sleeping. Sniffing. Sweet as can be. I studied you for a few minutes – your long lashes, your button nose, your full lips, your baby face. And then I went to sleep beside you.

This nap with Mommy? This doesn’t happen often. But it is as if you knew. You knew that I needed this, this dose of closeness, this commingling of limbs and blankets and breath, on this good and difficult day. Thank you, my big girl, for this birthday gift.

When you woke up, I whispered something in your ear. And you listened. I said, “I love you more than you know.” And you said something in return, something little. “Okay, Mommy.”

Because I do. I love you more than you know. On this New Year’s Day. On this birthday. On every single day.

Happy birthday to my gorgeous girl. I love you to pieces.

Mommy

Take a moment and wish my big girl a (belated) happy birthday! Are birthdays easy or hard for you? Are your kids’ birthdays easy are hard for you? Anyone think New Year’s Day is a pretty sweet birthday to have? Anyone agree that I might need to buy a second Stegosaurus sweatshirt in case this gets out of hand? :)

Share and Enjoy:
  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Digg
  • Sphinn
  • del.icio.us
  • Google Bookmarks
  • email
  • LinkedIn
  • Live
  • MySpace
  • Tumblr
  • FriendFeed
  • Global Grind
  • Propeller
  • Reddit
  • StumbleUpon
  • Yahoo! Bookmarks
  • Yahoo! Buzz