This Girl


Happy eight months sweet one,

It’s all going too fast. Your babyhood, this first precious year. I know I’m going to have some regrets because life has raced ahead and I’m so easily distracted, frazzled, sometimes even frustrated.

And here you are, all sunshine and sass and full of light. I want to bottle up this stage; your gummy grin, your sweet chubby feet, your downy soft hair, the way you babble and suck your thumb, running your hand over your hair.

You are our caboose, forever the youngest child, my baby. Please stay a baby for just a little longer would you? You seem a little too interested in catching up to your brothers and I’m just not ready for it.

Stop crawling and really stop thinking about pulling yourself up on things. You don’t have to eat all that ‘big kid’ food if you don’t want to. Although, anytime you want to sleep through the night, that would be just fine with me.

More than anything little one, I love you. Every little thing about you. To the moon and back.

(oh, and sorry that your childhood is being documented in grainy instagram photos, but it’s the best I can do these days. The second I think about getting out the big camera, someone falls off a chair or poops on the carpet. You’ll understand in a few years.)


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