Lovegirl – you rock! How do you rock? Let me count the ways:
- You are so fierce in your one-piece bathing suit! How I didn’t buy you one last year, I’ll never know. Too cute. Really. We grown folks should be half as sassy and secure when parading around in a piece of lycra/spandex.
- Your vocabulary is amazing – and growing every day. I love – and I mean love – to hear you say “what happened?” The concern in your voice is so real. Even when you’re just trying to figure out where your favorite toy is. “What happened Mama? What happened?” So sincere. You crack me up when you count to ten – extra high-pitched emphasis on the number ten – and then you laud yourself “bery good!”
- You are unapologetically you. And that my dear is an awesome skill that far too many of us lose as we “grow up.” You don’t eat broccoli. Period. You will not humor my mother – your grandmother – and call her name. Not happening. You laugh each and every time I recite “Jack be Nimble.” Every time.
- You play hard.
- You love harder. Nothing in this world beats having you grab my face with both of your hands, staring directly into my eyes and saying “mmmm” while planting the sloppiest, sweetest kiss on my face.
- You are beautiful. Inside and out.
- You make me better. Or at least you make me strive to be better.
- You are more obsessed with your “nabel” than anyone has the right to be. It is so fun to watch you hunt for your navel – that buddha belly of yours just keeps getting in the way!
- You open up the world to me all over again. I am 33. I haven’t seen it all, but I’ve seen a lot. Everything is new to you, and getting to experience the world again through fresh, unprejudiced, innocent eyes is an awesome experience that we should all have at least once.
- You look better in afro-puffs than anyone. Yeah, sure, I’m prejudiced. But I’m your Mama, and that’s my right.
I could go on. And on. And on. But since your counting skills right now are limited to 1-10, so shall this list be.