My girl


You are 9 months old already. I honestly can't believe it. Let me tell you a little about yourself. . .

Your eyes are the color of magic. And dusk. And dawn. And that moment just before the sun sets when time stands still and the whole world just radiates beauty. I bet you didn’t know eyes could be all those colors. I didn’t know either, until I met you. Some people say they are hazel, but that’s because they can’t see them the way I can.

Your hair is the color of promise. It sings of sweet memories, and smells like the wind when you close your eyes and let it settle on your skin. One breath of the top of your beautiful head and my worries are erased, because all I can smell is love. And hope. And joy. All wrapped up in a double cowlick and dusty brown tufts.

Your lips are the color of giggles. They shine with happiness and turn up at just the right moment. They reach right into my heart and pull out the good stuff, and it’s impossible to not return your smile. They are contagious. And wondrous. And alive. The soft pink of their curves is about as perfect as perfect gets.

Beautiful girl, you are so much more than beautiful. Each day you look around at the world in wonder and amazement, and I look at you in wonder and amazement. It is a privilege to be your mama, and I appreciate your patience as I learn to love you better.

I love you so much my heart could burst.