Dear Libby, I took this picture of you today. Somehow, in this moment you aren’t my 18 month old. No, in this moment I see the big girl you will become peeking out at me. And it makes me all melty inside because it happens so quickly.
I swear it was just yesterday you were this wee crying baby that we brought home. And now you say actual words like cat, night night, elmo, more, and up. You don’t just walk, you run…even when there isn’t enough room for you to, you run at full speed. I’ve watched you mimic with your dolls the things your Dad and I do with you…you give them medicine, you feed them, you show them books, and you hug and kiss on them. Watching you be the momma taking care of your dolls reminds me that you don’t miss a trick and I need to be mindful that your eyes are always on me.
You won’t remember these days. So I want you to know that even from the time you were just getting to know the world, you found joy in it, sometimes in the most unlikely places. Whether it’s turning any request into a game of catch me, providing the sound effects when we read that all the hippos go bezerk, or discovering that momma’s black loafers and old watch are the perfect accessories, you embrace where you are. I hope you will always hold on to that trait.
I also want you to know how you got that the tiny scar by your right eye. By the time you grow up it will probably be hardly noticeable, but I will always know it’s there. And so before that particular detail gets lost to me….you had a real knack for knocking into the coffee table. Usually it just resulted in a bump or bruise. But this one time you hit the corner just right and got a cut that turned into your very first scar. I know you can’t even see it in this picture, but I promise you it’s there. I also know it won’t be the only hurt you will ever experience but I hope that the others that are sure to come will fade in time as well.
Happy half birthday to you dear Libby. I love you to pieces.
Bon Appetit Hon 