Letters to my Children: Four

My baby.

You are not so much a baby anymore although you say you are.

You are my partner in crime, my teammate, my constant companion. You are the only one left at home to keep me company during the long school days. For the past four years, you have been attached to me nearly always. First in my arms and nuzzled at my breast, then in a carrier because you grew to dislike being on the floor, and now you assert your independence little by little, but love to come back to the safe haven of mommy’s arms with your little fingers wrapped up in my hair like a lifeline.

“Mom, I really love you. You are the best mommy in the whole world.” Those words are magical.

You love to talk, you always have. You talked early and you talked often. Your constant chatter is, for the most part, a welcome way to break up the silence of stay at home mommyhood, because most of what comes out of your mouth is witty and fun.

“Mom, I’m making a big mess”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Because I’m an artist, and that’s what artists do.”

You bless me every day, just by being you. Thank you for being my little girl, and for letting me hold you, for letting me be your safe place to land. I have loved these last four years.

Love, Mommy