Tag: mommy

Letters to Emma: Year 5

I’ve been writing letters to my daughter for 5 years and haven’t saved them anywhere. So, I figured I’d post them here to save them for her.

Here we go again. Another year, another letter.

Happy birthday, Emma Jayne. 5. FIVE.

I can not believe I’ve been a mommy for five years. So much has happened and so much has changed. Yet so much is still the same.

You’ve blossomed and matured so much this past year. You’re learning how to read and write. Maybe next year, you’ll be able to read this letter.

You’re making friends. You’re still the best big sister. You’re excelling at school and learning so much! You love to learn.

You still love dance. You are developing a little sense of humor and it cracks me up when you say, “I’m just joking you!”

You are still so kind and sweet- my little lover. You love to hold hands and cuddle.

You’ve discovered your own fashion- complete with accessories!

You love animals- which is why it’s no surprise that you want to be a veterinarian when you grow up.

I still love you. More than ever.

I have a feeling 5 is going to be the best year ever!

Letters to Emma: Year 4

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.

Letters to Emma: Year 3

Three years ago, at 4:23 a.m. A little girl named Emma came into this world screaming her lungs out. Lol. I guess she was making her grand entrance. The nurses called her “angry baby” and everyone always told us what a set of lungs she had.

She was tiny at 5 pounds, 15 ounces. The smallest baby I’d ever seen. She’s still tiny at 26 pounds at 3 years old. She embodies the Shakespeare quote, “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” to a tee.

She lights up a room when she walks into and commands attention in a way I never could, with her saying things like, “I’m a princess” and fully believing it.

She is so very sweet and loves to hug and hold hands with friends and her baby sister.

This morning, we cuddled in bed for almost an hour and I laid there trying to take it all in. Her little profile. The moment. The way she told me she loved me. I wanted to freeze time. But I know I can’t. It breaks my heart.

I know one day she will grow up but I already have the confidence that she will be a wonderful human being because of who she is now. So caring. So loving. She loves being outside. Playing. She has a full heart. She’s kind and generous.

I love her so much it’s probably not normal.

Happy 3rd birthday to the princess who made me a mommy.

Letters to Emma: Year 2

Happy birthday to the most beautiful thing I have ever done with my life. You are so smart, funny and full of life. You make me smile every day.

I can say now, looking back, that your first year was hard on all of us. But this 2nd year, you learned how to walk, got 12 teeth in 12 months, learned how to swim, became a big sister, took dance class. You have truly blossomed over the last 12 months into this amazing little person and I couldn’t be more proud of what you’ve already overcome.

I can’t believe it’s been two years since I first met you. It feels like you’ve been a part of my life since the very beginning. Looking at you is like looking in a mirror 27 years ago.

You are still my little peanut at 22 pounds and 33 3/4 inches (you’re sister is catching up quick!) but every inch of you is perfect.

I love you more now than I did yesterday, the day before, last year and the day I met you. You are my favorite person in the whole world and I can’t wait for the next year together (forget what they say about the terrible twos- ours are going to be the terrific twos 😉)

Letters to Emma: Year 1

I cannot believe that year ago today, my life changed forever and in ways I never even imagined when a tiny baby girl was placed into my arms for the first time.

Your first year of your life has been the best year of my life.

Parenting has by far been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I told a friend this year that parenting has felt like being a fish out of water desperately gasping for air and all the other fish are all like, it’s cool, you’ll figure out how to breathe again.

This year has most certainly had its ups and downs. But watching you learn to roll over, sit up, crawl and seeing the world all over through your eyes- your excitement at the ducks in the lake or the fish at the aquarium or even a tree as it sways in the wind- have been the most exciting and rewarding experiences of my life.

I love you so entirely and so completely that I can’t even imagine loving another baby as much as I love you, but I know in January when your little sister arrives, my heart will simply grow like the Grinch’s and there will be enough room for two.

At each new milestone you reach, I get this mix of feelings of both pride and sadness. Pride in the fact that you have now accomplished something and sadness in the fact that it’s one more thing you do not need me for anymore. I suppose it will always be this way. When you start kindergarten, when you ride a bike for the first time, when you graduate high school and when you get married, I will be there smiling for you, but teary eyed for me.

The day you were born was the day I first became a mother. Your Mama. It will be a day I always remember because you changed my life that day. You are my greatest accomplishment and I can’t wait to see what life holds for you in the future.

I love you with everything that I am, with every fiber of my being.

Happy birthday, baby girl.