Hi Sweet Girl,
I took this picture of you doing my nails because the Holy Spirit reminded me that these days aren’t going to last forever. You won’t always want to do my nails. You won’t always cry for my undivided attention. You won’t always beg me to join you in acting out your delightful imagination.
But today? Today I’m your best friend, favorite play mate, and your literal cup of tea (Seriously. You’re still nursing and when we point out that it must be soothing like the way grownups drink coffee you hold your hands up to the boob like they have a mug handle and I’m just like stahp.)
You are a natural lawyer and will live in a dirty diaper until the right offer comes along. It would not surprise me if you’ve read Art of the Deal
a couple of times. I also think part of your “delayed” potty training is connected to the leverage you’ll lose without your trusty dirty diaper bargaining chip.
You wrote your first song “Try Together.” The lyrics are:
I have no clue where it came from, but I’ll definitely throw it in the ring as a potential campaign slogan for your 2052 presidential run.
You’re the healthiest eater on the planet, and will eat cherry tomatoes like they are actual candy. Obviously, I love you guys and encourage you to be you at all times, but… gross.
I just think you’re the best. Like, actual magic personified. I swear you came into this world just knowing so much. You ask for what you need. You believe in your abilities, beauty, strength, and convictions. And right now my job feels like it’s to not let the enemy lie to you and tell you your gut is wrong. And to get you potty trained.
Love you, Sweet Girl!