When I asked you this year what you wanted for your birthday, you immediately called out two items: a Barbie castle and an oven.
I thought, "Who's raising this child!?!?"
I'm the mom you see dropping her child off at school in running shoes, exasperated already at 8:30 a.m. from a 6-mile run, getting Jenna ready for school and rushing out of the house. I am not a Barbie castle and oven kind of mom.
Shows how little I know you.
Happy Birthday, sweetheart, and thank you for making it another year. You most certainly have grown into a little girl who takes after both her mother and father. The light in you shines through in all you do; the determination and will in you pushes through in all you wish to accomplish.
You have learned about friendships this year -- namely, with Camden, Calla and Farrah. You have an eagerness to be around others and share with them your love, zest and overall good nature.
You are a polite child, and you are funny and you are sensitive. Raising smart children can easily come from the books, but what you have comes from the soul, the spirit, and from the heart. I'd like to take credit for some of that, but I believe it has been with you since the day you took your first breath. You either have it, or you don't. You do have it, my child.
Now, to get overly sensitive on this day would be foolish, because you still are the child who laughs when she farts and burps. And you giggle wildly when chasing the dogs around the house, or when you want to put make-up on their ears.
You are the child who requests music from the Pussycat Dolls, Pink and Gwen Stefani in the car. It's not many a-mother who have to turn down the volume when approaching school. I wouldn't have it any other way.
I wouldn't have anything any other way. You are my life, my reason for being. My first smile in the morning.
You are asleep, Jenna, and I await your arrival downstairs. Down here, you will find this humungous (your new word), three-story Barbie castle. A bat and balls. A princess ball.
And an oven.
Happy Baking.
No comments:
Post a Comment