Dear Guinevere,
It took me a while to appreciate you growing up. For the first six years of your life, I fought against time. It all seemed to be slipping by too fast – not just your early years but my thirties as well – and it made my head spin, the transition from a baby in my arms, to a crawler, to toddler, to preschooler and now as my elementary aged kid who reads, writes and solves equations with a speed and fluency that makes me wonder when the heck all this happened. It was really hard to watch those long stems that you call legs get longer and longer, making your skirts and dresses look shorter and shorter by the day, it seemed.

But lately you’ve showed me something pretty cool. You show us understanding, compassion and kindness that only comes from a child who has a little bit of maturity. You think of us as we think of you, you consider how you can make our, your Mama and Daddy’s, lives better, just like we do for you. When I’m sick, you make me a card. When I’m tired, you snuggle up close to keep me company. When I’m frustrated, you give me space, and when I need a hug, you climb onto my lap and snake your long, skinny arms around me in the biggest bear hugs you can manage. You can hold a conversation now about something besides what you, and you alone, are interested in. And the vocabulary you use astounds me!


But at your heart, you’ve decided that forever and always you’ll be our little girl. Today that means that you’ll sit in your room playing Barbies, crafting, drawing or pretending to be Mary Ingalls from The Little House on the Prairie books. While Hannah Montana stills seems to hold a special place in your heart, you are expanding your musical interests elsewhere too, with additions from Owl City, The Dixie Chicks, Taylor Swift and The Decemberists (you have no idea how cute it seems to me when you bust out with a line from ‘We Both Go Down Together’).

In the interest of staying forever our wee little one, you still say you’ll never marry, never have babies. But I hope against hope that someday you’ll find yourself in love, and that love will allow you to lose yourself enough so you will let go and become the woman you are meant to be, not just your mama and daddy’s little girl. Your future now, in your mind’s eye, is that of a teacher. Your hope is that, just like your teacher, Miss Jansen, you’ll get to work at the same school as me and we’ll teach together. Of course, that is when you’re not entertaining other career choices like being a comic book artist, wedding dress designer or professional singer.


So, on this day, the anniversary of the day you came into this world to take your first breath, the day the Dr. Madsen cut you from me, I celebrate the person who you are at this very moment. Because at this moment, you are absolutely perfect in every way. With you, seven was heaven, but eight will be great. And you know what? I know that because no matter how old you are, little girl, you are always your best self, you are always wonderful and I will always think the very best of you, no matter how old you are. Happy 8th birthday, Guinevere Rose!


Love,

Mama


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