My dearest daughter,
I will miss you. I know that you are not going anywhere, not anytime soon at least, seeing as you are only four years old. But I will miss you just the same. I am blessed to know you and proud to be your mother. Everyday I wonder and hope that I am doing right by you, my only girl in a sea of brothers. I can relate, as I was raised with five brothers of my own. I guess we were destined to be, two peas in a pod. A pod of testosterone that we must wade through together, you and me kid.
Why am I saying that I will miss you? Because I know that our time together gets closer and closer to an end with each passing day. Time is flying by, slipping through my weary fingers like sand. Maybe I squeeze a little to tight sometimes, trying to hold on to as many grains of that sand as I can. Then I remember that I am supposed to let the sand slowly slip away and hope I let it out in all the right places.
I know I loose my temper sometimes. I know I get stressed out and that it is not your fault. You went from being the little baby princess in a house full of big people, the apple of our eyes, the highlight of our days to being the middle child and a big sister to baby twin brothers all in a day. We have our good days and bad and I need you to know how very much I love you. I love you as much now, if not more, than the day you were born; a freezing cold evening on a Blue Moon that I will never forget and cherish forever. You are still my princess. You are still my apple. You still brighten all of my days.
But you are changing, as you should. You are no longer my sweet little baby girl that I wished for for forever. As much as I adore the little girl you are blossoming into, I will miss you and all the little pieces of the past you. I will miss holding your tiny body in my arms and the smell of your freshly washed baby hair. I will miss humming in your ear while I sway you to sleep, rocking side to side, hip to hip. I will miss picking out your clothes and cutting up all of your food. I will miss you running through the sprinkler in the yard in just your undies, without a care or a worry because you don't know yet the kind of world we live in. I will miss the way you eat your favorite foods with gusto, never worrying what others think or that you have food on your chin. I will miss the way you can't tell a knock-knock joke right to save your life. I will miss standing unnoticed outside your bedroom door while you play and make voices for all of your little stuffed animal friends. I will miss the day you stop carrying around your most favorite raggedy stuffed polar bear everywhere we go. I will miss your need for me in all your precious ways.
I will also miss all of the not so fun parts of you, like when you scream at me and slam the doors. I will even miss when you bicker with your brothers and have an accident in your underwear. I will miss the way you tell me you hate the dinner I cooked and that you like the hair on my butt. (She was not talking about my butt ;-) I will miss cleaning up after you when you are puking sick. I will miss telling you "no" all of the time and you making it seem like I ran over your puppy each and every time I utter that tiny word. I will miss being shot with the daggers from your eyes, piercing me through the heart every single time.
I will miss all of these things, both the good and the bad, because it is all part of the journey of being your mom. These are the things that make it real and I am grateful to share them all with you. This journey that I wish would last a little longer than it should. A journey that I try not to take for granted, but know I fail at miserably here and there. I need you to know how very much I love you, forever and always, no matter who you are or who you become.
And I am looking forward to the rest of the journey, the twists, the turns and everything in between. I hope you are, too.