Wednesday, August 29, 2018

A Love Letter to My Baby, on Turning 25

When Mary Nell was a baby and toddler (she's 2 in this pic), I told her she was cute approximately 99 million times a day. I mean, look at those curls. Look at that face.

But, every once in a while, my feminist self would kick in, and I'd also tell her she was smart and kind and brave and good. You know, all the traits that actually matter.

When Mary Moo was a little girl (4 in this pic), we had a different daily conversation. She would do something absolutely wrong, break all the rules, then look at me, bat those eyes, and ask, "Are you happy of me, Mommy?" And, all too often, instead of a well-deserved punishment, I'd give her a hug.

But, every once in a while, my sensible self would kick in, and I'd also tell her she knew better and send her to time out. (Where, I have to tell you, she would sit and giggle and play with dust in the air. Everything that worked with Kate was useless with this one.)

Now, whoosh! My baby is 25 today. I'm very happy of her. And she's still cute.

More importantly, she's also smart and kind and brave and good. Happy birthday, Mary Nell, Mary Moo, Mary! Here's a candle for this year, all the years past, and one to grow on.

May all your birthday wishes come true.
Love,
Momma