The baby you once were is disappearing further and further from our lives. The child, the girl you are becoming is taking root instead. You're empathetic and righteous; you're indignant and relentless. Your favorite phrase is the unanswerable why and you know the difference between right and left. You identify correct emotions and can lip-sync to any genre. Your microphone is your new weapon of choice. You wear us out and down, you make us boast and cry. We love, love, love you more than anything on this planet.
Every night, I kiss you as the last thing I do before I go to bed. It's part of our routine, and if I am in this house and so are you, I kiss your head every night. Sometimes I catch you looking like that baby who once chewed all the varnish off her crib, like in this photo. You always slept with your arms over your head when you were an infant; Daddy joked you'd go dressed as a goal post or an NFL referee to your first Halloween. One night last week, I had to be away for work. You woke up the next morning and immediately told Daddy I didn't come in to say goodnight. He mentioned that I hadn't kissed him either, since I was gone! I think you then understood.
All these nights, little girl. All these years you knew I was there, that I was part of your midnight landscape.
I promise I'll be there every night.
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