Oh my sweetest Fiona. Today you are 3 and my heart feels so full. There’s a bitter-sweetness to watching your baby grow up. As your baby grows, a parent tries to savor all of the firsts and the lasts…the last first steps, the last bottle, the last time you bend over to place your baby in a crib….and all of the others. You’ve completed our family (I hope. I feel done. LIKE, SO SO DONE!) We couldn’t have asked for a better daughter. You, in a lot of ways, are everything I want to be. You stick up or yourself and YOU DO NOT BACK DOWN. NEVER, EVER. It doesn’t matter if your opponent is your sister or is someone you call dad and is much bigger and stronger than you. Does.not.matter. They meet your wrath just the same You will have your demands met. As a woman in this world, under the current set of circumstances that personality just might serve you well, my dear. But, then, there is this other side of you. It’s the side I can see in the photo I included in this letter. The side that is so disarming. The side that leans in with puckered lips for a full on wet kiss. The side that wraps tiny arms around your neck on a sad day. The side that gently pets your favorite animal- cats or the side that lovingly comforts your dog with a “oh hey buddy-you’re ok.” You’re tough as hell, but also as sweet as pie. That’s what I love best about you.
You’re the funniest person I know. You were born with a sense of humor. You’re seriously the only 2 (now 3, yay) year old that I’ve met that makes up their own jokes and sketch comedy. Brilliant! You’re also the only person to consistently burn me on an almost daily basis. It’s ok. I respect it 🙂
I didn’t know if I would be a good mom of two. I felt like the minute you were born, I was born all over again as a mother of two. It’s been different. I’ve had to learn how to not only parent two kids- but to also parent each kid differently. I’m a different kind of mother to you than I am to your sister. For example, when your sister gets hurt- she wants immediate attention and “saving”. She wants the hugs, kisses and the make-it-all-betters. When you get hurt, you first need space to work through the anger, pain and frustration or whatever else is going on in there. If I rush in- I’m oftentimes pushed away and told “leave me alone.” Then, after a pause, you can accept the hugs, kisses and the make-it-all-betters. A lot of this, I’m learning as we go along. We’re growing up together in this way and learning as we go. I’m not sure that will ever go away.
You will always be my baby. Even when you’re 30 and I ask for “my baby” I’m going to mean you. We’re bonded in a special way because of that and in it lives a tenderness that I’m getting used to. I’m so so so happy you are here. You were meant to be. From the moment you were born you’ve made us all better. Thank you so very much.
You are my heartbeat little monkey. Happy 3rd birthday sweetie (after I typed that I just heard your little voice in my head say, “DON’T call me sweetie!)