can you buy modafinil in canada A day late (and a dollar short) but here goes my yearly letter to Emma:
You are already so much of what I wish I was.
You are brave and courageous.
I love that we have so much in common. It makes it easy to parent you. You love the things that I love, like crafting and baking. But I also can’t wait to see what makes you YOU. Unique. The things you like. What interests YOU.
I love that we are giving you things I never had or did. Like dance, karate, soccer- even Disney.
I want to give you everything. But I also want you to be grateful, thankful and humble.
You are so sweet and kind and compassionate.
You are confident and beautiful and I love that about you and I am trying to relish it because I know that one day you will doubt it. The world will make you think you aren’t.
But just remember, to me, you are and will always be.
Everything I do, I do it for you.
You are my whole world. Every decision I make, I think of you. How it will affect you. If this is the right choice.
You have my whole heart for my whole life.
Four years ago, I became a mom for the first time. I was terrified. I cried – a lot. I questioned if everything I was doing was going to screw you up for life.
Four years later, I am a little more confident in my abilities as a mom. I still cry- a lot. I still question everything.
But I laugh a lot more. We talk. We have adventures. I get to experience the world all over again through your eyes. Experience magic.
And sometimes I look at you and get weepy. Because I can’t believe you’re mine. I made you. You were once so tiny- not even 6 pounds.
And how your dad and I ooh and ahh at how “big” you are now- all 30 pounds of you! But next to all the other 4-year-olds, you’re still tiny.
Four years ago, your dad and I were carving pumpkins when my water broke.
You’re still my little pumpkin. My little peanut.
For now and forever.
I love you, Emma Jayne.