As I sit here staring at your sleeping face, I realized that when you drifted off to sleep you were 3. Tomorrow morning when you wake up you will be 4. FOUR years old. I know it's just a bigger number, and in reality it's only one day older than you were today, but there seems to be something different about turning 4. Maybe it's because your little mind has grown by leaps and bounds over the past year. Or maybe it's because you have really grown into your role as big sister. Maybe it's the conversations we have that make you seem wise past your years. Or maybe it's the compassion that I'm witnessing develop in your little heart. You are learning to be empathetic and to give.
When you were born, I couldn't stop staring at you. You were so beautiful, and I wanted to memorize every curvature, every dimple. It's like that now too. I stare at you, amazed at the little lady you are becoming. It is pure magic that escapes your eyes when you get excited. Over the last 1,460 days of staring, I've learned so many things about you. I know the shape of the dimple in your chin. I know how your hair falls across your forehead. I know that you bite the inside of your lip when you're in deep thought. I know the way you clench your jaw when you're about to stomp your foot. I know the sound of your belly laugh, the feel of your hand in mine, and the smell of your hair.
When I look at you, I see excitement, possibility, and innocence. I see love, diligence, and independence. But most of all, I see my baby. For no matter how many birthdays we celebrate, you will always be my baby. I love you to the moon and back.
Happy birthday, Princess Grace.
Love,
Mama
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