Dear Emerson,
You are growing so fast, and becoming less and less a toddler every day. I have to remind myself that you are supposed to be stubborn and independent because you're growing up...not because you are trying to frustrate your mama. I love it when you want to help me set the table, and empty the dishwasher. I love to put your hair in a ponytail, and watch it bounce as you run away. You amaze me with your vocabulary, your funny stories, and your concern for others. If only band-aids really did fix everything. You are a dare devil and a tomboy, but you insist on wearing Minnie Mouse undies and a dress while you skin your knees. You giggle often, and make us laugh until our sides hurt too. I love when you ask me to rock you at night, and want to be wrapped in your blankie...I hate that you barely fit on my lap anymore. I enjoy singing to you, and watching your eyelids get droopy. It makes my heart sing when you give me the "I love you" sign, and say "I UV YOU, Mommy!". You're the best thing I've ever done, and I'm so grateful to have such a sweet baby girl.
Love, Mommy
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1 comment:
Wow, what a tearjerker.
I wrote a letter to you almost exactly like this, word for word, on the night before you had your tonsils out, age 4.
Sigh....
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