Four Years Ago...

Four years ago I had no clue what I was doing when our unexpected blessing arrived and changed our lives forever. These days I don't have much more of a clue, but I sure am glad that Someone far smarter than us decided it was the perfect time to send us the most amazing gift of our little girl.

             July 31st, 2008                                                                          July 31st, 2012

And my, little girl of ours, how you've grown. Even when I don't have a clue, you seem to. You make your own bed, get your own meals, pour your own drinks, and clean up your messes. Sometimes you are utterly delighted with your independence, and other times it's a little much and you decide it's more fun to crawl around on the floor and pretend to be a baby instead. I understand. Some days I don't want to be grown up yet, either.
Sometimes when I ask you to do a big girl job, you smile joyfully and skip off obligingly. Sometimes you knit your eyebrows together and scowl at me and I wonder that my sweet four year old is already acting as I imagined only a 13 year old would. But it never fails that the impish little flash eventually returns to your eyes and your endearing smirk once again lights up your face, especially when you hold out your little finger for our "pinky promise." You say that you will try to be a better listener, and I say I will try my very hardest to be more patient. I always hope for your sake that I can keep my promise. You amaze me the most, though, when you talk about your future. Some days you talk about the things you will do when you grow up and become a mommy. You talk about the babies who will grow in your belly, and show me how you will love them and feed them and change their diapers. It makes me smile inside and out, and I say, "you will make a great mommy one day!". Some days you tell me how you're going to be a teacher, and I say "sure, sweetie, if that's what you want to do!" And I reflect in amazement at all the things you've already taught me. And other days you tell me that you want to be a nun when you grow up and live with all the other nuns so you can love God and help people all the time. I look at you in awe and say, "well, sure, if that's what you want--and what God wants!" It's wonderfully astounding to see such beautiful innocence, such a tiny person like you with such great dreams. And I feel humbled to think that your little soul who I felt so unprepared to love four years ago has been the greatest lesson of my life in love--honest, raw, true love.

Happy 4th birthday, my sweet girl--I love you with all my heart!