Hello my little sparkle.
You’re amazing. Do you know that? You’re funny, you’re smart, and you genuinely care about people. Sure, sometimes you’re caught up in your self obsessed pre-schooler life, but most of the time, you’re a really great kid. You’re very normal, you blend, yet you’re extraordinary, you are a leader.
You could carry on a conversation with a wall.
And you have.
If we ask if you want to watch Prison Break you excitedly say, “Yes!” even though you couldn’t care less. You know we love it, and that’s all you need to be excited in life. Well, that and some Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. You & Daniel Tiger are pretty tight.
The other day you looked at me and said, “I sure wish I had a phone.” When I offered you mine, you said, “No, that’s yours. I wish I had a phone for me.” For a
two barely three year old, that’s pretty intellectual.
I love how you use the word actually correctly in a sentence. Often. You make us laugh so much.
You look like me, and that’s pretty awesome. I’ve never looked exactly like anyone (except DJ Tanner from Full House) and I was surprised when you grew into the face I had in my preschool years.
When given a wand, you’ll dance around and pretend you’re throwing sparkles everywhere. It’s pretty darn cute. At night you call out to us after we put you in bed. You say you’re scared of monsters, but really you just want extra snuggles. Somehow, your twin bed easily fits all three of us comfortably when we snuggle.
You’ve started climbing into our bed almost every morning. Part of it drives me nuts because you are a pretty violent sleeper and it’s not a fun wake up call, but I do love being close to you and snuggling in with your kissable cheeks.
Oh those cheeks. I’ve always hated mine, but I love yours. And because I love your chunky, kissable cheeks so darn much, it’s taught me to love mine, too. If I love every part of you so much, and you look just like me, then perhaps I can love every part of me, too. I certainly don’t want you to ever dislike anything about your body. It is perfect.
Which brings me to another thing… have we totally screwed up yet? Should we go ahead and start pre-paying a counselor? Sometimes I feel like the mom on Matilda, and you’re the sweet, responsible daughter that raises her parents. I mean, we’re kind of a mess, yet you shine through it all to be the most amazing little girl.
And we’re not the only ones that think that. Random strangers will stop to tell me how beautiful you are. You’re a bit of a local celebrity. No pressure, but we all have extremely high hopes and dreams for you. You seem to have gotten every ounce of talent from both your parents combined, you lucky little duck!
Most of all, thank you. Thank you for being so awesome and putting a little sparkle in each day.
I am very proud of you.