We went out for supper this evening with some friends whose daughter was born just a few days before you entered the world. We two mothers were watching you and Nora running around outside Whitey’s–covered in pink, bubble-gum ice cream–and we wondered aloud at how in the world you’d both grown up so fast. We recalled sitting on my friend’s couch, sweaty and anxious, as we nervously nursed our newborns before our first outing to the mall, complete with overstuffed diaper bags and ridiculously cumbersome stroller systems.
Watching you chase Nora down the sidewalk in your brown bird dress, as you screamed and giggled, my heart was almost too full. You have changed from a beautiful, fussy, constantly nursing baby into a beautiful, funny, wildly gesticulating four year old. I am so proud that you are my daughter. You are the funniest, spunkiest, most creative person I have ever met. I am awed by your articulate way of expressing yourself, by your intelligence, by your perceptiveness and sensitivity. You are a lovely soul, stuck in a small body that isn’t always capable of channeling the huge amounts of energy and emotion inside of you these days. This can cause tantrums and extremely aggravating moments–for both of us–but we always find our way back to each other.
Tonight–after our ice cream; and our walk home in the late-summer twilight; and our talk about cicadas, and where they live, and what they look like; and our “cuddle bath”; and our long imaginary game of Ballerina and Lucy, the two big mice who live in the janitor’s bed and look after five unruly little mice–you fell asleep in our bed, holding my hand. I watched you sleeping for the longest time, my big girl, and I could still see my baby’s face. You have the very same sweet profile that you did in your ultrasound picture at 20 weeks’ gestation. Every cell of you grew inside of me, and now here you are in this world, in my bed, with your curly, blonde hair and your softly moving lips. You are the most complicated and simple words I’ve ever written. You are all my hopes and memories. You are love.
And tomorrow, you will be four. Happy birthday, my beautiful girl. Happy birthday.