I probably shouldn't admit this, not here. So public, where family may read it. I did not fall head over heels in love with my daughter the minute she was born. She was not my baby, my baby was at home and this was an intruder. It didn't help that she was hard. Hard to feed, hard to sleep. There was the ppd always lurking in the shadows. I loved her, but I was not in love with her in the overwhelming heart bursting sort of way I was when my son was born. I did love her, and I learned everyday to love her more and more and more ( even if she's still difficult to sleep and feed)
She will be 3 tomorrow.
She has really come into her own person. I little feel my heart swell and grow as I watch her go about her days.
That above picture? She set her self up like that all by herself. Dug the chair out of the garage. Came in and out, in an out for a book a toy and sat there watching her brother leave for school. Just being little her. Enjoying being outside and being big enough to do it all on her own. Waiting for her turn to be the one that gets to go off and be at school.
I see her running, she runs, more like skips, everywhere. So full of life, so happy. I never want to see that light, that joy in life ever fade or darken. My hope for her is that she will always skip through life.
I see so much me in her and I realize that while I have learned to love her for all that she is and will be, I am learning to love myself as well.
Happy Birthday my little Peanut. I love you more then you will ever know.
* All images property of Peanut Butter in my Hair. Don't even think about touching them unless you want to see what happens when you anger a mama bear. Thank you!