ONE.
Such a tiny number. I never thought much of ONE. If I find one penny on the ground, I will often keep walking. Things purchased for one dollar are often cheap, fall apart easily and don’t hold much value. One ice cube in my water glass does not make that much of a difference.
But on 12-22-13, ONE tiny girl changed my life forever.
One little cry came out of her mouth and I was instantly smitten.
One look at her beautiful face and everything I’ve ever known or wanted or dreamed changed.
In one moment the love I felt for my husband deepened to a place I never knew existed.
One cuddly bundle makes the sleepless nights tolerable. One bright eyed face looking around makes me cry and laugh at the same time.
She doesn’t even weigh 7 pounds yet, but when I hold her I feel the enormous weight of responsibility. One little life, helpless and completely dependent on me, serves as a reminder that my one life is dependent on God for strength & wisdom.
One doesn’t seem so small to me anymore. In fact, one sweet girl has filled my heart to overflowing.
I wrote this a few weeks after you were born.
And then I blinked.
They told me this would happen. They told me time would fly.
I didn’t believe them the first few months. Smacked in the face by motherhood, I couldn’t imagine you as a big girl. I only saw you as a feisty newborn who didn’t sleep very well. Sadly, some of the first few months of your life I spent wishing the days would go faster. Looking ahead to the days when you would be older, more independent.
Now here we are, your third birthday. You’re still feisty as ever. You are beyond independent, which makes me laugh and cry at the same time.
Neala, mommy is so proud of the little lady you are becoming. Helpful and caring, bossy and chatty, I see the beautiful mixture of your personality. You have your daddy’s energy and intelligence.
“Daddy, are you going to work to make money for my piggy bank?”
“I’m so appointed (disappointed), Linky won’t play with me.”
“I had fun at the Fall Festival, I’m going to post it on Facebook.”
You have my humor and sass which is both frustrating and entertaining.
“Mommy, why you ask Jesus to take the wheel?”
“I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”
“Lincoln poops, daddy and mommy poop, the twins poop. This house is just full of poop.”
A few days ago I put you down for a nap and watched you fall asleep. Snuggled up next to you, I held your tiny hand with chipped pink polish. I tried to memorize how the soft brown curls of your hair fell around your neck, your innocent face staring at me asking for “The Three Bears” one more time. I watched as your curious blue eyes became heavy and you drifted to sleep.
You are no longer my only child. You are one of four kids now, which means sharing time and cuddles and attention.
But you were my first. You were the one who burst my heart wide open with love and joy and all the feels.
I love you sweet girl. Happy birthday.
Letters to Little Feet. Stories for my children... And you. 