Monday, June 9, 2008
Letter from Mama, v6
Happy half-birthday, Miss Lil' Dude!
6 months ago, you became you and we became us. Most marriages in Hollywood don't last 6 months. I know, I keep writing about how quickly time is passing us by and how astonished and saddened I am by it. I resolve to no longer wallow in the past while trying to hold on to the days. You, my sweet, bright, beautiful daughter are growing up. Never have I had so much fun.
You are definitely an individual, lil' dude. Your giant personality and wet grins go the distance even on dark days. You remind everyone who loves you how good life is and how thankful we are. You love your toys and your blankets; the things in your nursery that are yours. It is so easy to make you happy. Daddy and I spend most of our time together laughing at you, or recapping what new things you've come up with. We most especially love doing commentary from your point of view, oh, the things you (we) say!
I love how when you're in your stroller, and we're shopping or at the park, or even at the pediatrician's office, you look for anyone and everyone to smile at and interact with. Your happiness and excitement is contagious. I've never known a more happy baby. When Mama or Daddy takes out the camera to take pictures of anything, be it the dog, or flowers, or your new friends, you perk right up and flash us that $10,000 smile. You love being adored, you love being spoiled, you love being you.
This summer, baby girl, is all yours. Daddy and I have always loved summer and everything that goes with it. We have never been more excited for summertime, now that you are here. We can't wait to share our favorite things with you and make new traditions as a family. We knew parenthood would change us, make us do things differently. We knew that before you were even born. We just didn't know how great those changes would be, how much doing things differently would delight us so. There is simply nothing better than being your parents, lil' dude.
So yes. For 6 months we have been us. We've reveled in your belly-laughs and your determination to sit up, in your new found love of being on your tummy, and introducing you to great things like toes dipped in a rain barrel, licks of ice cream, sips of Sprite straight from the can. There is nothing I won't share with you, kid. It's all yours for the taking.