Dirt and Dandelions

28.

The number of years I lived before March 25th, 2009 changed my life forever.

28.

The number of years I lived before I became a mother, second time around. 

28

The number of years I lived without the gift of you, Beautiful Daughter. 

To think I lived a full 28 years never knowing anyone who could make me laugh quite like you. A full 28 years never knowing someone so full of silliness and confidence and beauty and strangeness all wrapped up in one delightful package.  28 years wandering around just living my life, not knowing that one day you would barge in and make me wonder if I have lived only that so you could as well. I don’t say that to dismiss the pure, true love I have for Son…it is just that he was not complete without you. I was not complete without you. And one day you and Son will recognize all the ways in which you complete one another, but for now, please go ahead and continue to fight incessantly and beat the crap out of each other because you know how that thrills me. 

I recognize so much of myself in you, Daughter. We both have an active imagination which I think lends itself to our shared collection of vivid, colorful dreams. I watch you through the window as you wander the neighborhood in search of a friend, or simply on an adventure all your own and I can’t help but see my girlhood self, sitting in the middle of my backyard lilac bush, lost in my own daydream. We are both content to be alone, happily engaged in any number of activities that need no companion to be enjoyed, but also need the jolt of life that only companionship with others can bring. We share an affinity for eye-rolling, inappropriate jokes and quiche. And although I am not saying that I encourage this, I, too, love a good door slam and nobody does it quite like you, Daughter. It’s a grand gesture of passionate displeasure and while you can certainly overuse it at times, I can’t help but like the spirit behind it. 

But you are so much more than anything I could be lucky enough to posses. You have a raging confidence that cannot be denied and a thirsty curiosity, always begging to be quenched with rapid fire questions. You have an effortless ability to make friends and to all those who are lucky enough to cross your path, an impression is made. You are, hands down, the funniest person I know. Why, even Brother himself can’t help but enjoy a good belly laugh at your antics. And while it doesn’t say much for me, you often wiggle yourself out of some sort of mischief simply by making me giggle and I like that about you. You are the extra in extraordinary. You are glitter and grit; dirt and dandelions. You are never anyone except exactly who you are and it is my greatest hope that that is who you will always be. To be so young and to already own such a sense of self….well…let’s just say that most of us take much, much longer to evolve to right where you are already living. 

Perhaps that cashier at Old Navy that one day not too long ago said it best about you; she said-“I’ve only just met her two minutes ago and she just gave me life.”

Happy 9th Birthday, Beautiful Daughter. We gave you life so you could keep giving us the same.

Love,

Mama