My firstborn turned 6 today. Six! It’s so cliché, but really, it doesn’t seem like more than a year or two ago that I was bringing my little girl home from the hospital. Six years ago, she looked like this:
Sometimes, when I look at her sleeping, I can still see that newborn baby. The one that looked nothing like me, and everything like her daddy. She’s grown up a lot, but she’s still Ava. Still spunky, still full of personality. Still snuggly. We have our moments of conflict (often), but I still think she is absolutely the best girl in the world. I love watching her learn, seeing how her little mind works, and watching her grow up more and more every day.
While I certainly don’t want her growing up too fast, I do look forward to her adult years, and hope that she will see me not just as her mother, but as a confidante, and a friend. I think that’s the thing about daughters – another girl will come along and take your boys’ hearts, but there isn’t much that can come between a girl and her mother.
So, to my daughter, I say this:
Ava, if you ever remember anything about your childhood, remember this: your Daddy and I are so in love with you, we could never put our feelings into actual words. You brighten our days, you make us laugh, and you make us proud (even though you hate it when we tell you that). You have amazed us with your love for your brother, and your kindness to him (most of the time). You are such a loving, sensitive soul, and our lives are better because of you.
Happy birthday, sweet girl.