Monday the 16th of February marked my baby girl’s 2nd birthday. It is true what they say; time is fleeting. Being a parent is scary and such a huge responsibility, to say the least. I’m constantly thinking that I may screw her up, that I’m not involved enough, not attentive enough, giving her too much, not giving her enough, too much sugar, not enough vegetables, not being consistent enough. The list goes on and on. But my purpose today is not to share my parenting doubts and rants, but to write a letter of encouragement to my young daughter. To remind her of just how beautiful she is and just how much she is, was, and will ever be loved.
Dear my little Sophie,
Today you turned two. I can’t believe two years have gone by since I first held you in my arms. The last two years have been filled with many memories, some bittersweet, some sad, some funny, and still others with fear and trepidation of what the future may hold. Mostly the memories are just filled with love. Like the first time you smiled at me; I could barely hold my tears in check. The first time I made you laugh; just listening to you laugh made us laugh. Now, as a toddler, you laugh when we tickle or chase you. They are laughs unhindered by years of life, laughs without a care in the world.
I remember so many firsts: First time listening to music, first time seeing a balloon, or live ducks. (That was the first animal sound you made, by the way) . Watching how proud you were of yourself in the smallest accomplishments: Stacking blocks for the first time, finally figuring out how a toy worked. First taste of food (sweet potato, by the way, which of course you won’t touch currently); so many firsts that only the parents truly remember or treasure. I even remember the first time your daddy changed your diaper. ( I believe it was the first time he ever changed a diaper. You should have seen the look on his face! It still makes me chuckle. )
Once you started walking, your dependency as we knew it, was over. You have always had an independent streak, but once you started walking, there was no stopping you.
I love how you sing “Jesus Loves Me” with me, and that Jesus is one of the words you can say. It melts my heart. I love how you hug our dog, Max, and the next minute you are hitting him. I love how you purposefully try to get him to lick your face, though inwardly I cringe. I love how you organize and reorganize your toys. I love how you call anything sweet a “cookie”. I really hate to correct you sometimes. I love your love of being outside and just walking. I love how you seem most intrigued by basketball and golf on tv. That and tennis are the only sports that intrigue me as well. I love that right now you want to listen to classical music only, no Disney channel. I love that your little face lights up with joy when you see your daddy as that is the purest way a daddy and his little girl should be: pure adoring joy. You are a daddy’s girl. I could fill a novel with the things I love about you.
I hated it when you had your first ear infection (a double one at that) . I hate that we can’t see family more. The distance is just too much sometimes. Most of all, I hate that you lost your Mimi at such a young age. I hate that you can’t feel her loving arms around you.
Most of all, I love you. You are beautiful and you matter and you always will. You have already made a difference in this world. You have taught me how to love more than I ever thought I could. I know we will continue to grow and learn and love together.
My prayer for you:
I pray that you will grow to be strong and healthy. That you will always strive to live a healthy active lifestyle. That you will be a considerate, caring, compassionate strong woman of God. I pray that your laughter continues to be unhindered. I pray that you always keep dreaming. My greatest prayer is that you will be content and joyful, and that you will love God with a heart of a child always.
I love you, unconditionally, never changing, never ceasing, always and forever.