You are my first baby. My sweet little Tinkerbell who looks like your daddy and has a temper like your mommy. Next week you'll be two years old and I can hardly believe it. Some days, you have moments of such compassion and generosity, that I think you are much older than you actually are. Some days, you seem a lot younger too!
When I look at you now, I can see what you'll look like as a little girl, about to enter Kindergarten, with soft, wispy pigtails and an imaginative sense of style. If the light catches your cheek just right, I can see what you'll look like as a high school girl, getting ready for her first date. And, it pains me to say it, I can imagine what you'll be like when you give birth to your own little child someday.
You hold your baby when I hold your baby sister. You rock them, sing to them, and even let them nurse! But then, in your most vulnerable times, you want me to rock you and sing to you and even let you nurse. I try to stop what I am doing and let you "be my baby," if only just for a little while. I know someday, you won't want to be in my arms any more, so I try to savor every moment I can.
I know I haven't always been the best mom to you, but I am trying hard. It's very difficult to understand what you want sometimes, but I always try to help you however I can. You are so sensitive and caring and I love that about you.
My first girl. My precious girl. I'll always love you no matter what.
Now, pick up your juice!