The last dozen years

 

Hey there, Girlfriend.

As you drift off to sleep, one last time, as an eleven-year-old ball of feisty, fiery, fun energy, I sit here, trying to let my brain convince my heart that it's okay to let go of yet another age and move on to the next one.  For some reason, this time, I feel a little less ready to embrace the change.

The next time I see you (unless our cat decides we need a pre-midnight waking) you will be twelve.  It's the last dozen years' milestone in our little family.  It is the last year before you become a teenager and all three of my children are in that age range.  It just doesn't seem possible.  

I need to remind myself not to jump that far ahead yet.  We still have a year, after all.

Norah, watching you grow over this last year has been a wild ride.  You bring me such joy, and I love seeing your personality, independence, intellect, wit, compassion, bravery, and maturity develop.  You are balancing between a kid and a young woman, already.  There are so many times I find myself feeling like you are wise and mature beyond your age.  

Navigating this age is a a rollercoaster, I know.  We have talked many times about how difficult it is to be a girl your age, with emotions, feelings, thoughts and more all feeling so overwhelming and chaotic.  Friendships feel easy and natural one day and strained the next sometimes, and it triggers introspective hours, worry, and tears.  It doesn't usually take long to realize it's all going to be okay, and things fall back into their happy normal place. But it's exhausting.  I know that you will mature and bloom through it all, and you will come through it knowing what really makes you a treasure to your friends, and your friends to you.  There is so much to be learned in the trials of pre-teen years, and I pray that you take it all with grace and humility, and that nothing but beauty comes forth when this part of the journey is through.

I have many prayers for you this year, as I always do. I pray that you continue to find your strength, your bravery, your calm, and your voice.  I pray that you feel successful, and that you know that you know you are smart, capable, and creative.  I pray that you have success not only academically but socially, and that you continue to be a beacon to others and a positive role model to your peers.  I am always so overwhelmed with pride when I hear adults talk about you and the ways that you make your surroundings a better place. 

I pray that even on hard days, your beaming smile shines through and you find a way to laugh and sing.  I pray that on the best days, you are able to capture moments in your mind and can look back on them in the many years to come. 

I pray that you continue to find things that ignite passion and that you continue to try new things and develop new interests.  

I pray you always care about others and can continue to see those who often feel overlooked or forgotten because that's a beautiful gift from Papa God. 

I pray you never lose your playfulness.

I pray you are always able to see good in the world even though sometimes that feels overwhelmingly difficult.

I pray you always hold on to hope.

I pray you always know that God is with you.

I pray you always know you are deeply loved.

Thank you for blessing me with another year of laughter, singing, creating, exploring, snuggling, and the thousands of other moments we shared.  I love when we are able to spend time together, even if it's something simple like goofing off as we drive through down on errands.  Next time we get coffee, I'll let you order for me.  Don't let me forget.

Thank you for making me a better momma.  Thank you for loving me even when I'm cranky, or you're cranky, or we are all cranky.  Thank you for arguing with me about who loves whom more.  Thank you for never letting me forget that I'm goofy.  Thank you for all the help you provide in so many ways.   Thank you for being authentically you, all of the time.

You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and I'm so glad you're mine.

Happy 12th Birthday, Boo.

Love you more,

Momma

Tween

 

Hey, Girlfriend,

Here we are... at yet another transition.  I didn't google it or anything, but in my mind, this birthday marks the transition from big kid to tween.  Is that how it goes? Tonight, you go from ten to eleven.  It really isn't that much older, but it feels like a big transition somehow.

Norah, you are one of the greatest humans I've ever met. You are full of spice and spunk, laughter, and love. You radiate joy with your smiling eyes and your bounding laughter.  You are SO, SO loud, I like to think your joy carries far beyond who can see you in front of them.  I hear from so many people that they see your light in your smile, in your dance, in your eyes.  It makes me so proud to call you my own.  I try not to get too full of myself, but I like to think that my goal of raising good humans is coming to fruition with each year that passes.  

Sure, now that you're becoming a tween, you're also... a little... well, you know. Emotions happen.  We struggle some days, but our communication within our little family is pretty top-notch most of the time, so we get through even the biggest rollercoaster days. 

We are all learning a little more about empathy and grace these days, I think.  We all work as a team to try to remember to pause and not react, and when we do react, to react with kindness and understanding. It's a wild ride watching all of my littles go from three kids four and younger, to three kids entering their teenage years.  So many people talk about how teenage years are hard, and I know that's true, but so far, for the most part, I am enjoying this phase of life.  It's been so fun to see personalities change and emerge. You, my daughter, are also my friend, and the person I spend the most time with outside of work.  You still think I'm fun and hilarious, and you seek me out more than anyone else I know.  I know that we have had talks about how I'm still trying to navigate that, being a somewhat independent person, and that your need for me, your desire to be around me frequently, to have my eyes and ears on you, is a sign that we have a great relationship.  I tell myself it must mean I am a good mom.  I am truly blessed when you (and your brother) reaffirm that.  I promise that in this next year, I will try my best to slow down and be in those little moments with you, the ones you crave even though I don't necessarily understand it (within reason, of course).

But really, you're my daughter and my girlfriend. I love our coffee & smoothie dates, cruising in the car singing at the top of our lungs, laughing about ridiculous nonsense.  I love that our sense of humor is similar and our sarcasm is complimentary, so we can tell when we are being silly snarky with one another.  I love that we can (usually) read each other's expressions and know things without words being spoken.  I love sharing a room with you and I find it utterly fascinating you feel the same way.  I didn't expect it.  I love creating with you. I love watching TV with you. I love fighting over the affection of our cats with you.

And that's just me. You are so many things to so many people. Your brothers are blessed by you and your love for them even when you don't get along.  I know you would each stand up for the others when time gets hard.  I've seen you have each other's backs when it feels like others turn away. Your besties are blessed by you and your silly inside jokes, dances, and hand-shakes.  Your teachers are blessed by you and your sense of community, compassion, and inclusion.  Your cousins are blessed by your unconditional love that surpasses all geography and ages.  Your aunts, uncles, grandparents, and chosen family are blessed in the same way.  Animals all over the place are blessed by you and how your excessive energy can be calmed in an instant so that a furry friend will seek you out almost anywhere we go. You are full of empathy and compassion. You see the unseen.  You have a creative, unique, problem-solving mind that brings goodness to this world.

You're a treasure- a mutli-faceted gem.  

Having once been a pre-teen (I didn't know the word "tween" when I was younger, shocking, I know.. the [late] 1900s were really something...) I know that the next few years are going to be full of self-discovery, conflict, and resolution.  Your sense of self may be challenged in unexpected ways. You may cry a lot of tears over a lot of things, both inconsequential and significant, and it all really does matter.  Friendship lines may blur and change, but I pray you'll remember to always be a good friend to those around you.  I pray that you never harbor hatred in your heart. I pray that you embrace forgiveness, but also firm boundaries to protect your heart.  I pray you are able to tune out the lies you may be tempted to believe about yourself, and hold firm to the truth.  I hope that you are always able to know when to be serious and when to be silly, who to joke with and when, and that it is a rarity to hurt another person's feelings. 

You are brave. You are strong. You are fierce.  This world has thrown some really big stones your way, but you've knocked them down or climbed over each one, and not a single thing can break you if you hold onto who you really are inside. I know it. 

Girl, you're going to move mountains and change atmospheres.  I can't wait to see it.

Keep sprinkling kindess. Keep splashing sunshine.

I love you.

More.

Most.

(Your brothers too, even though you don't always like them, and I have to remind you they're also my favorite people. We'll keep working on it.)

You dazzle me.

YTBTTEHTMAISGYM.

Hahahaha.  I hope I got that right.

But yes, "it's possible."

Always,

Your Momma

Ten Years of Sunshine

 Miss Norah,

You just hugged me goodnight, and I reminded you that you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.  You went to your bed, one last time as a nine-year-old, with a glimmer in your eye that sparkles the anticipation of tomorrow.

I don’t know if I’ve told you in person how I’ve always thought of you as my Sunshine baby.  Your oldest brother was my first miracle and the answer to a lifetime of prayers.  After he was born, I lost a baby while I was pregnant.  When a baby is born after a loss like that, the next child born is considered a rainbow baby.  Your second brother was the rainbow after the storm.

You, my girl, have always been the sunshine that followed. 

I know I have told you how you were a big surprise, from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you, to the ultrasound where I was told you were a girl (after I was so certain I was meant to be a “boy mom” and never have a daughter), to the day you were born where you proved to me you really are a girl.  You were unexpected to me, but God knew what He was doing, and you were the perfect completion to my set of answered prayers.  

You have always brought the sunshine.  You bring it to me, but also to others.  You sparkle and you shine from the inside outward.  You have the most brilliant heart of gold, seeing what others often miss or overlook, and make sure that people who might go unnoticed see that they are important.  So many times, you’ve asked to give money, food, a hug, a gift, a blanket, your time, and your love to those around you- whether you know them or not.  You make my own heart swell with pride.

You are not only my daughter, but in some ways, you’re my friend.  You are my sidekick for errands, snuggles, and creating.  You have an amazing sense of humor and joyous laughter.  You sing your heart out every single day.  You are ready for pranks and silliness but also for serious talks and matters of the heart.

You are a delight to your brothers, even when you may not be getting along.  They have always been fierce protectors and know that you are their own. You reciprocate the same for them, and it blesses me to know that you will always have each other’s backs even when I’m not around.  

You brighten the lives of your extended family and your friends.  Animals love you too!  It’s amazing to see how so many are drawn to you and appreciate what you bring to this world.

The last year has been wonderful, but also sometimes a struggle, for as you start to mature, I’m having to get to know new sides of you.  Your interests and style have begun to change, and I must admit, when it first started, it threw me for such a loop that I felt maybe I was living in a dream.  The predictability of your long-time childhood passions began to fade away to reveal what your young lady heart and mind find joy in now.  

Because you are my only daughter, its taken some getting used to new facets of your personality, some of the sass, and unpredictability of older-girl emotions.  I pray that as you continue to grow and some things continue to change, we will both be blessed with unlimited patience and compassion for one another as we figure it all out together.  Your brothers are included in that prayer too.  In some ways, now that you are all growing up to be big kids, preteens, and teenagers, we are all getting to know each other in news ways all over again.  Some days this home is definitely chaotic and we feel a little overwhelmed, but I’m so grateful we are all lead by love and Jesus and I know we can get through any tough times together.

I know from experience that being a ten-year-old girl is not always easy.  I know that being in fourth and fifth grade with other girls can be a challenge and like riding an emotional rollercoaster set up inside of an unpredictable wave pool. I pray that your heart doesn’t take anything thrown your way as an attack on your identity, and you’re always able to remember that the other girls your age are all going through similar things alongside you, and it can just be a stormy mess sometimes.  There will be rainbows and sunshine after the storms if you hold on tight- I promise.

I have loved watching you flourish academically, artistically, musically, socially, and in your faith.  You are a gem with so many beautiful facets.

As we close out your first decade of life, I hope that you know I am always on your side, even when you might not see or feel that is truth.  I pray you never let the world dull your sparkle and extinguish your light.  I pray the atmosphere changes when you walk into a room because you carry the love of Jesus within you.  I pray that you find your tribe and make lifelong memories that you can look back on when you’re an older woman, like the many I share with you about my years as a young girl. 

I love you, Miss Norah.  I’m so grateful for the ten years of Sunshine I’ve already been given. I cannot wait to see what’s in store.

I’m so glad you’re mine.

Love you most.

-Mom

The last single digit..

 Miss Norah,

The day is almost near. It's a day you've been waiting for somewhat patiently for months. Your birthday. Again. Didn't you just have one? And must you keep reminding me that you are turning nine?

Nine. My baby girl, my unexpected sunshine, is on the verge of her last single-digit birthday. You won't stop reminding me. I can't believe I've been a mom this long. 

The last year has been a year of growth in many ways. You seem so much taller, your hair thicker, darker, straighter. You're less baby-faced and more muscular. You're so strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. You have faced your biggest academic struggles head on and threw down the walls of your heart in order to conquer them. 

You are such a compassionate little sister to both of your brothers. When someone picks on one, you stand by his side. You know how to calm him, reach him, and understand him, when sometimes even I don't. You are one of his safest spaces, even if some days you do more fighting than laughing. You have such forgiveness in your heart for when you are wronged. 

You know how to pester your oldest brother in a way that's filled with love, and the two of you have such a great relationship in that way. You stand up for him, but also to him when necessary, and you keep each other accountable. 

The three of you are a beautiful team. You've begun to grow in your communication skills, relating, and friendship, just as you've been growing in your capacity to irritate each other. Clearly, God made you to be a unit. 

Your almost nine years of experience living through hard situations alongside your brothers and I has helped you to be such a kind cousin and friend. 

Every one of the cousins you spend time with adores you for various reasons. You may be older than all but one of them, but you love each of them well for who they are, and you can tell how much they appreciate who you are. I adore watching you play together. I love that your cousins are some of your best friends. 

Your friends are so blessed as well. You have friends of all different ages, races, backgrounds, and abilities, and you treat each one with value and respect. Your experiences with your brothers have shaped your compassion and empathy and ability to embrace and cherish other kids who are neurodivergent which is something that the world needs more of and I am certain you are lighting the way for others around you. 

I love your heart for the suffering of others. When we see people on street corners holding up signs, you always want to help. Tonight, when we watched "the Hunchback of Notre Dame " you were filled with tears in the first few minutes as your heart broke for the injustice and suffering of one person cast out from the world. You spent most of the movie voicing how unkind people were and how unfair it was, because Quasimodo was beautiful to you with his cute, misshapen face. Your heart hurts for the hurting and you are not too proud to say so. I love watching you come alongside those who may be struggling, overlooked, or feel broken. 

This past year has been surreal in the way that you have become my little friend, not only my daughter. Sometimes, that's hard for you, when I have to parent in ways you don't appreciate, but as I have reminded, I'll always be your mom first, and friend second. But the development of our friendship has been such a blessing to both of us. I love sitting in the car with you to run errands as we laugh hysterically about something silly we said, or thought the other said, or a funny comment on the radio. We share similar interests in crafting and smoothies and have had many a date just the two of us when the boys turn us down. It's been a true delight. 

As you continue to mature, you continue to develop your own brand of sass and stubbornness, which while appreciated in some ways like in knowing you'll be able to stand your ground when you need to in years to come, and you won't just let others push you over and trample you, it has also been a bit of a struggle for me, learning to grow and figure out how to walk through it with you. In so many ways, I've found you are not like your brothers, and the things in little girl world are complex and deep many times. The one perk to going through these developments with you is that I too was a young girl once, so I relate just a little more than I do to some of the boys similar, but differing struggles. I have had to tell them that I was never a young boy, so sometimes I may need more clarity and understanding to know what is going on in their hearts and minds. 

Pip, I pray that this next year is absolutely splendid. I pray that it's filled with so much emotional rainbows and sunshine that you can hardly stand it. I pray that you can look back and see how far you've come in overcoming things in the past, and it gives you fortitude and courage for the future. 

I pray that your friendships continue to strengthen, despite the way young girl friendships ebb and flow, bend and break but then reform again, coming and going much like a tide. In the same way, I pray that those dearest friendships remain constant, also like the tide. 

I pray that you continue to see your inner and outer beauty in a world full of mirrors that are filtered to bring you down. I pray you see through that and only hold onto the mirrors that show the truth, and that builds you up. I pray I've done a good enough job filling your emotional storehouse of self-worth that you will never, ever believe you are anything less than beautiful and worthy. 

I pray the cats accidentally scratch you less and snuggle you more. I pray they really do eventually want to take pictures with you like you want to take pictures with them. 

I pray that as you and your brothers approach big years of growth, you remember who you all are deep down inside, and you can approach each other with mercy and endless grace. 

I pray that you hear the truth Jesus has spoken about you, and you hear his whispers regularly. 

Baby girl, not so much a baby, but yet, always my baby, 

I love you. 

You love me more...

But as I've told you, that's not possible. 

Happy birthday, Norah B. 

Love,

Momma

From Seven to Eight

 Miss Norah, my darling girl,

This morning, I woke you and your brothers as always, with my "morning love you song." Part of me believes you intentionally stay in bed until my musical alarm greets you for the day. This morning, I added a line about your last day being seven years old. You laughed and got out of bed quickly to hug me with excitement in your eyes. You've had a countdown to your birthday for weeks, multiple times a day asking the Alexa (that you renamed Ziggy and confused us all) how many days until your birthday, because she included hours as well. 

Tomorrow morning, you will wake up eight years old. Every year, every birthday, I wake you all up singing happy birthday instead of the morning song. This year is a little different.

This particular birthday will be unlike any other so far, as you have emotionally thought through over the course of the past few weeks. This birthday, you will wake up in a room that is not your own, away from your brothers and I, for the very first time ever. We have talked about it together, and you've shared your excitement but also your sadness knowing it will be different. As you left this afternoon to head to the hotel with your bonus sister and bonus mom, as your sister is 364 days older than you, you were 99% excited and 1% hesitant. I considered this a success in tapping into the joy and living in the moment, although I was a bit sad to see you go. I reminded you that you probably will barely remember I'm not around in the morning, but you promised you would miss me. We are quite a pair, aren't we?

"I love you." I will say.

"I love you most." You reply. 

"Not possible!" I respond. 

"Yes it is!" You always exclaim. We argue this little conversation daily, and seeing you go today felt the same. 

Miss Norah, it's been another amazing year with you. You've become fierce, independent but simultaneously still needy, witty, physically stronger, mathematically a wiz, kinder, ornerier, gentler, more compassionate, intensely passionate, and more beautiful than ever. One of my great joys is hearing stories of your beautiful heart shining for others when I am not around. I love knowing that you carry yourself in that way even when I'm not watching, not knowing that I hear about it as it happens. You love others just because God calls you to, and you do it well. 

Growing up has meant your emotions have deepened, which has been quite a rollercoaster. You can go from elated to devastated in seconds, intensely sobbing to hysterically laughing, round and round again multiple times a day. I know you get frustrated with me sometimes, not always knowing what to say, or do, or how to react, but I am appreciative of your grace and mercy, as you know I love you, no matter what the moment might feel like. I know we will continue to navigate these rides together and it will make our relationship so much stronger. 

My little Brownie Bite, now that you're more mature, I feel like our mother daughter relationship is starting to also really root itself in friendship. I love our adventures in crafting, playing, grocery shopping, walking, singing, laughing, and snuggling. I love that you share a similar sense of humor to me and I can make you laugh like no one else in the world. I love that you get me, too, and can decode what it is I'm trying to say even when I don't have legitimate words coming out of my mouth. 

I love how much you love your brothers. You know them well and can speak their love languages easily. It's so much fun listening to you all converse and interact. The fighting .. well... I could do without that, but I know it comes with the sibling relationship and sometimes I know I just have to bite my tongue and hide in my room a few minutes while you all sort things out. You're all getting pretty good at it, too!  

I love watching you continue to flourish in your role as a cousin, and also as a friend to both your existing friends and the new little loves in your life. I see so many people enamored by you!

I pray that in this next year, your ambitions and desires continue to grow. I pray that your heart continues to shine for those around you. I pray that you choose to do the right things, the good things, the hard things, the loving things, even if no one is watching you. I pray you dance in the sunshine and the rain, and that you never let anyone dampen the song in your soul. I pray you see yourself through my eyes and through Jesus eyes, and not through the negative perceptions you think others may see. I pray you know how to stand up when the world wants you to fall, and that you know the strength inside your soul. I pray you have endless joy and countless fits of laughter, and you know there are always arms around to hug you when you need. 

I am so thankful for you, baby girl. Thank you for bringing so much color and sparkle to our lives. 

Happy 8th birthday, Norah. I cannot wait to see your 8 year-old smile tomorrow. 

Love you most,

Momma

Little Miss Seven

 Darling Norah,

You told me this morning that you can’t believe tomorrow is your birthday.  Honestly, I’m finding it hard to believe it as well.  This past year certainly pulled us all through the wringer, and while we’ve joked about it not “counting,” it most certainly does.

A year ago, as you reminisced today, I was “so super sick” and we “were stuck all by ourselves,” but it was also such a blessed birthday.  Countless people sent or dropped off treats, balloons, and gifts, and your eyes sparkled with such joy.

This past year has helped sculpt us all, and one of the ways it affected you was helping you to be even more cognizant of the little joys and small victories in long, trying, isolating days.  There have been so many times you have pointed out to me the ways that things are good or better, and it’s such a refreshing lens to look through.  I love seeing those moments through the lens of your vision.

This year has also brought out some of the most generous and caring attributes of your personality and really let those facets shine.  I remember the excitement at Christmas as we walked through a store where you chose gifts for a little girl across town that we didn’t know, with such a twinkle in your eye.  You could not wait to surprise her with blessings to help make “her Christmas amazing.”  You secretly mailed money to some of your favorite people, “just to be nice” and “to do a good thing.”  When I told you about the groceries we were planning to bless someone with, you came up with an entire additional list of things that they needed, because kids need treats sometimes, even if it includes six flavors of Jell-O.  You make me so proud.  When we made tie blankets with the women’s group at church last fall, you loved it so much  and were so inspired that you asked if we could “make a bunch” to donate ourselves.  With the help of family and friends supplying so fleece, we ended up making a stack of blankets that was taller than you.  You blow me away.

You’ve made sure to remind me through the year how great it is that I’m here.  I know you and your brothers spent a long time worrying about me during various scary health struggles, and you are always cognizant of the fact that things could have turned out very differently.  You admit that the times made you sad, but you are more aware of the fact that things are okay, and that you’re just happy that things turned around.  Your optimism is inspiring on days I struggle to be that way myself.  You’ve stepped up and been so incredibly helpful during my recovery, even though I know it occasionally irritates you to “have to be helping,” and I am incredibly grateful for you and your brothers during this challenge, because I know it’s hard on all of us, but you have all been quite gracious and patient in the situation.

Sure, over the year you’ve also gained a little extra sass, spice and spunk, and maybe a few decibels in your volume register, but you’ve also gained such resilience and intelligent along the way. I’ve loved watching you really blossom in reading, and seeing you bounce back up quickly and determined when things don’t quite go your way.  

There’s been a lot of inconsistencies and change through the year, and you, my dear little lady, have shown such strength. I know that your strength will continue to grow, and that you have such amazing things in store for you. I cannot wait to see you take on the world, although, I wouldn’t mind if you slowed down just a little bit, and we can enjoy these younger years before they vanish with the wind.  You and your brothers are all growing up way more quickly than I would like, and my heart aches a little bit looking at how the years have gone by so swiftly.  The days may be long, but the years are short- or something like that.  I’ve been told that so many times, and this year, it’s proven more accurate than almost any year before it.

I have loved watching your creativity bloom as well.  Sure, you make a lot of little messes (and some giant ones, but who am I to judge because I make crafting messes too) and I feel like I’ll forever be finding scraps of paper, sequins, clumps of yarn, or bits of vinyl everywhere, but it excites me to no end to know that you seem to follow in my footsteps creatively, and although I will likely never run out of tiny little “notebooks,” it is absolutely wonderful to see the things made by your pretty little hands.

I love hearing you worship.  More often than not, the songs that come through your voice while we are sitting at home or driving in the van are worship songs, and it makes my heart soar.  It makes me giggle when the boys want to listen to Kids Bop, and you beg to change it to a worship station.  When I look over and see you singing in church, it nearly takes my breath away.  One of the most powerful moments that helped get me through my hospital stay was watching you sing and dance to worship songs in your dad’s basement.  It lifted my spirits so greatly and brought me enough peace to rest a while.  It was such a great gift that you didn’t even know you were giving me.

Another thing I’ve absolutely loved watching bloom is your relationships with your little girl cousins.  They all have such joy in their eyes when they see you, and you are so patient and understanding with them, but also so incredibly excited when spending time with them.  It’s so beautiful to me to watch those relationships form, because my cousins were also some of my very first and closest friends going up, and although there’s a few years in between me and my cousins, and a few years in between you and your cousins, I see the foundation for those lifelong friendships forming, and it blesses my heart immeasurably to watch you all flourish as you do.

The past year was filled with a lot of “missing out on” and “missing people” and I’m so sorry that life played out that way, but I am thankful for the many hours and days we all were able to spend together, even if sometimes it stressed us out.  I am also so grateful that things are turning around this year, and more typical things are beginning to occur, and we can get back to some of the old traditions and joys that we have longed for over the months.  

I am so thankful that this year, you can walk outside our doors and be greeted by many who love and care for you.  I’ll miss seeing your delight all day long as you are celebrated and cherished at school, but I’m so very happy that I get to share you with the world again.   You are a ray of sunshine in many people’s cloudy days.

Norah, I pray that this year you continue to flourish outside these walls, but also within them.  I know God is moving in your heart, and I pray that you can continue to overflow to those around you, and it magnifies greatly.  I pray you continue to have courage and tenacity in all situations, and that you really can feel how invaluable you are in this world.  I pray you always not only feel beautiful, but know in your mind that you’re beautiful inside and out.  I pray that you have confidence in who you are in all situations.  I pray that you always take the honest road, and keep truth at the forefront- I know that is something that is hard in a world like ours, but I know you have the strength to do so.  I pray that you touch the hearts of others and continue to show kindness and compassion.  I pray your heart never hardens toward those around you.  I pray you know how very loved you are.  I pray that you can continue to change the world around you, and that the world around you does not change who you are inside.

I am so proud of you, little lady.  

I can’t believe you’re going to be seven in the morning.

You think you love me most, but it just can’t be true.  No one on (other than God, as you point out frequently) can love any one more than I love the three of you.  I know, we debate this at least once a night.  I love that about you, too.

Love, Mom

Spectacular Six

Dear Norah Girl,

That's what you told me, tonight, that you want me to refer to you as when you're six- "Norah Girl."  It's to mirror that you call Spencer "Spencie Boy" and Collin "Ollie Bear," and "Norah B" is reserved for some special others in your life.  I suppose it's time I move on from calling you "Pip" or "Bubs," but I can't guarantee that it will happen.  I'll try to refer to you by the requested name though.  You said you would try to remind me.

We will see what tomorrow holds.

What I do know tonight holds, though, is a beautiful five-year-old little lady, snuggled up in the fort she made out of her bunk bed, with her new nightlight tree from Grandma plugged in and sitting at your feet.  Tonight is your last night being five.

Goodness girl, you are excited about that.

If I'm honest, your brothers, as the day went on, became a tiny bit annoyed listening to you go on and on a thousand words a minute (roughly) about how tomorrow is going to be the best day, because it's your birthday, and you will be six.  They surely couldn't wait for you to stop at bedtime, and the look in their eyes said it all.

Momma, on the other hand?  I loved listening to your excitement.

You see, this birthday... this one is different.

It sounds so cliche to blame it on this pandemic that's spreading throughout the globe, but it really is to blame for the strangeness this birthday presents to us.  School is closed, the world is nearly shut own, and we are stuck here at home while I overcome the virus that's tried to take over my lungs.  

You've been praying frequently for the last 11 days, for "corona VIRUS" to leave your momma alone.  As much as I hate the words, the way you say it, with the emphasis on the end, is just adorable.  

I'm sorry the past few weeks at home have been so hard, leading up to your birthday.  I know I've been asleep so much, sick so much, a bit crabby, and just not my normal self.

But baby girl, you've been phenomenal.  You refuse to accept that I shouldn't be with you, and you snuggle up beside me as soon as you decide you miss me.  Your brother do too, but not as much as you.  You don't want to leave my side.  I know it's partially concern, and it's a lot of loneliness.  You've always been such a social sunshine, and being isolated at home for two weeks already has been hard on you.  

I've seen you cry about missing your family, your friends, church, school, and daycare more than I care to admit.  I have held you, wishing I could make this isolation and virus go away.  

But instead, we've just been here, together.  You've been praying for me.  I've been praying for you.

I've been so worried, since school first was cancelled, that your birthday would be sad.  You see, I had taken the day off work to surprise you for lunch and in your kindergarten classroom.  I couldn't wait.  But that was taken away.

So then, I decided since I had the day off, we would surprise you with a trip to daycare to see your friends for a treat, so you could celebrate anyway.  

Then I got super sick.  And since I'm still sick, we cannot do that either.

We can't even have people over. 

But it's okay.  You've shown me over and over that my prayers surrounding your special day have been answered.  I was so worried you would be crushed by the isolation and saddened by all the losses involved.

But you haven't been crushed.  You have been a little sad.  But it won't overtake your joy.

The most beautiful thing happened this morning.  You knew that since I am still sick and we can't leave, we couldn't even get birthday decorations.

You wouldn't let that get you down.  So you made them yourself.  And you decorated the apartment with our help.  You spent the entire day just filled with joy over these decorations.  And then when someone dropped off streamers, we hung those too.  And tomorrow, there will be surprises that people have dropped off at the door, and the gifts that I ordered online- even though I couldn't leave.  And your brothers, this year, sorry babe, but they're getting some stuff too.  It's a hard time for them as well.  They'll forgive you for all the birthday talk when they see they are most definitely not forgotten or overlooked.

And tomorrow, you'll have video chats and phone calls and written messages from people who care about you.  There's even a surprise visit being planned for the deck sliding glass door.  So, it won't really be just us.  We will be the only ones in the apartment, but you will still celebrate with people who love you, because goodness darling, you love people.

Sweet Pea, you radiate joy.  Yes, you have other, strong, explosive emotions, but overall, you are just filled with joy.  You have been since the day you were born.  I think I say it every year in your letter, but God knew what He was doing when he brought you to us.  You may be the smallest, but goodness, you love like the biggest of them all.

This past year has been chaotic, beginning school, having your dad come back into your life, bringing a new family into your life as well, but you've handled it all with grace.  Yes, there have been some pretty intense struggles, but you were never broken down.  And you've become stronger, smarter, and more fierce, both good and not-as-good ways.  You've become a bit more sassy, a bit more emotionally charged, and hugely more humorous.  While you do talk... oh... pretty much non-stop, it's usually quite fun listening to you.  I especially love listening to you play with your toys by yourself.  You're so creative and come up with some of the most interesting scenarios.

You told me yesterday that someday you hope to have a daughter, and name her Maria, but also you don't want to get married and have kids so maybe you'll just have a dog named Willow.  Then you walked away.

Alright, Norah girl.  You know I love you beyond words.  I know you know I pray for you.  For this year, specifically though, I pray that you do not let the world rob you of your sunshine.  Do not let the world dull your sparkle.  Do not let the world steal your joy.  Carry on with Jesus shining in your heart, so you may carry on loving others the way that you do.  I pray that you continue to grow into your bravery.  I pray that your patience develops even more deeply.  I pray that your creativity and imagination continue to blossom and bloom.  You have so many amazing things in store for you and I cannot wait to see what invaluable treasures you bring into this world.  I pray that you know that no matter what, I am on your side, and I'll always be here, and there are countless others who feel the same.  I pray you always know God loves you more than I ever could, even though neither of us can figure out how that would be possible.

You told me today that you love me most of all.  When you walked away, I cried.

I love you, and your brothers, most of all too.

You are the best things that ever happened to me, and I am so glad that you're mine.

Happy Sixth Birthday, Baby Girl.

Love,

Momma

There they go.

Today was a big day in our household.   Everyone woke early with all sorts of nervous, excited anticipation of what was to come- the very first day of school, where all three siblings would be in the same elementary school.  They'll continue on there for a few more years together, but this year, the oldest is a 3rd grader, the middle is a 1st grader, and the youngest started kindergarten.

I woke early and began praying over my babies before their eyes ever opened.  Last night was rough for Norah, as she laid her head on her pillow, she started crying. I asked why and she gave me a reason, but I didn't think it was the real reason, so I asked if she was nervous for school.  She shook her head yes and began crying, unleashing all of her worries and fears.  She had been putting up a brave face for a while, and it was good, although almost unbearable to walk through, the flood gates opening wide.  I prayed overnight that she would be filled with peace in the morning.

Each of my babies put on their first day of school clothing in a hurry, and sat at the table, full of giggles and smiles as I finished preparing for the day.  We then headed out front for our annual first day photos.  We had time to spare, so little miss asked if we could go to daycare and she could surprise her best friend (my coworker) before school, like we have visited her for almost every day for five years.  She was so excited to open the door and jump through and give her hugs before school started.  Then, we met up with their dad who gave them his well wishes on his way to work, and off we went to find a parking spot fairly close to the school.  We managed to be only about two blocks away.



The walk, as it was two years ago, and three years ago, was pretty quiet.  The children shuffled along in a line at first, and then two in front, and then three all together, as we neared the school.   When we were about a block away, big brother bear Spencer insisted he hold his little sister's hand the rest of the way.

We got to the playground and, as usual, it was filled with all sorts of excited and nervous energy, happy laughter, tearful smiles, and people all over the place.  Collin immediately found his class line and some friends, and we almost had to beg him for a hug each before he told us to have a good day and went off on his own.  Norah and I walked Spencer to his line and hugged him, before she transferred her hand from his to mine.  She hadn't said much yet, so I asked if she was excited and she gave a quiet "yes" while looking shocked at the amount of people around her.  Eventually, she spotted some of the kids she has spent most of her life with at daycare, and hugged them, finally excited for the day to come.

We found her line and stood together, and I asked if we could take a picture together.  She said yes, and we both smiled at the phone.  As soon as I had the photo taken, she turned to hug me, and the bell rang.  Lines started moving inside, and she began to cry.  She was scared, she was nervous, and she was afraid she would miss me all day.  She didn't know if she could do it.  I held her close and reminded her she's brave and that she would see me in a few hours.  I nearly had to peel her off of my torso, before she released enough to be just holding my hand, and I walked her as far as I could to the door.

As she went inside, I realized I was crying, too.

I cried on the way to work.  I calmed myself enough to go inside.

Then her best friend asked me if we made it through okay.  I said yes, but my voice was already crying. 

I was okay for three hours before I cried again.

The hardest part was that I couldn't just hear her voice, text her teacher upstairs to check on her, or walk there myself.  I knew I wouldn't just randomly see her in the hallway.  She was far away with a teacher I don't really know, for the first time ever.  Almost five years in the same building is a hard tradition to break.

I received a text from a friend who works at the school, saying she saw Miss Norah and she was doing amazing.   I felt so much better.

Both Spencer and Norah visited me at work briefly after school and said they had great days.  At the end of the day, Collin reported the same.  I was also told that Norah was so kind at school that there was another little girl crying at recess because she missed her mom so much, and Norah helped her to feel better.  My heart about burst.

I knew it was going to be okay.  I knew what I told myself the other night- it was time to let her go and spread her light, her love, and her joy at the school.

Tonight, as I sit here, all three sound asleep within minutes after a long and overwhelming day, and I am filled with anticipation at hearing what will come of their lives, all in the elementary school, shining their light.  I pray that they will make the world a better, brighter place.  I let them all go.    I have tears on my face as I realize the younger years are done, the baby days will never be back, and their journeys are well underway. I pray I've done well in preparing them.

I know they'll make me proud.

My littlest graduate

Last week, my heart simultaneously was aching and beaming with pride, as I watched my youngest baby walk down the aisle for her preschool graduation.

Yes, the long-awaited day had finally come.

She was the one waiting for it.  I was hoping to postpone it just a little bit longer.  She is so eager to be bigger and move on to grander things.  I, on the other hand, am trying hard to catch up to her in that respect.

But goodness, watching her enter the room with a smile beaming brightly set my heart on fire.  She is ready for grander things. 

She's so smart.  She's so sassy.  She's so independent.  She's so creative.  She's so brave.

She's going to take on kindergarten full force in the fall.

Watching her graduate was a little harder on my heart than watching her brothers.  When she started daycare, where she did the preschool program that she graduated from, she was less than one-year-old.  She started on the same day that I did.  We started together in the same room.

She's left me way behind.  I love where I am, and so does she, but she's ready to break forth.  I am not.

It's been such a joy watching my kiddos grow and move through the rooms, finding relationships with not only their peers, but my fellow staff.  I have LOVED the four years of having my princess in the building with me.  I have loved knowing she's near, just like I did with the boys.

But watching her go?  I'm not ready for that.   I have a few months to adjust, but I don't know that I will ever really be prepared to enter the daycare doors alone next fall, and not bring her smiling face through the door to see her best friend- the first daycare provider she ever had, whose heart she found a home in, and has loved her, and seen her, almost every single day of her life.

We are in for a big change.

I am so excited for her, though, as she is thrilled to join her big brothers at elementary school.  She has big plans and ideas for the days to come, and I love hearing her squeal with excitement as she tells me all about them.

Her graduation program was adorable, of course.  She grinned until she couldn't grin naturally anymore, then faked it and sang her heart out.  She was beautiful.  She enamors me. 

She wants to work in a hospital when she grows up.  She used to want to be a nurse.  I guess it's a little more open ended now. 

I stood there, watching her, grinning as huge as she did, with tears in my eyes.

My baby graduated.

They're all growing up so quickly.

When you rise, you will be five.

Dearest, sweetest girl of mine,

You have drifted off to sleep now, my love, after two full days of celebrating your birthday, which greets us when we wake in the morning.  You have been so excited and giddy with anticipation of this day for oh, so long now.  The little twinkle in your chocolate brown eyes gets me every time you smile, telling anyone who will listen that you are almost five.

Five.

How can that be?

Was it really that long ago that my completely unexpected, little ray of sunshine brightened this world?

I've said it before, but I will say it again.  I never knew I needed you, I never knew this family needed you, until we met you face to face.

Norah, dear, you are a gem.  You bring such sparkle to our lives, not just in literal form with all your pretty jewelry and glitzy garments, but your personality just radiates in a way I didn't know was possible. 

I've been told multiple times recently that you are just the sweetest, kindest little lady, caring so much for others bringing joy to many lives.  I sat here thinking last night, as I thought about what I wanted to write to you this year, that someday, I hope to be more like you.  Well, I mean, in some ways.  I do appreciate the fact that I know which shoe goes on which foot and I can zip up my own boots on the first try, most of the time.  But in matters of the heart, I think your brothers and I have some things to learn.  You forget offenses so simply a lot of the time, are so quick to forgive, and bursting with hugs and laughter. 

Little girl, you bring so much sound into our world.  You're your own little symphony.   You're always either talking, laughing, yelling, crying, or singing at the top of your lungs.  It's very rare you're silent- usually only while you sleep.  You have so much to say, and so many songs to sing.  I love when you break out in worship songs multiple times a day, whether its in your room, in the van, in the yard, or in the shower.  I try, when you're not paying attention, to catch it on video, so I can hear your small, gigantic voice for the rest of my life.

You have a wonderful sense of humor, and a nice helping of sass, rounded out with so much intelligence that you amaze me.  I was telling someone today, that you are so very smart, but that you're still little enough, though not for long, that you know big words and sometimes just cannot say them correctly.  I will be so sad when I no longer hear words like "callipetter" coming from your mouth when you tell me all about the little worm that turns into a butterfly.  These days will fly by all too quickly, and you will probably know more words than even I do.

Pip, I love when you help me bake in the kitchen, and I am so excited that I was able to create for you, the cake of your dreams this year.  Literally... your little unicorn loving mind has dreamed you riding on a rainbow unicorn with pink hair so many times.  You probably tell your brothers and I all about it at least once a week.  The look on your face when you see something that overwhelms you with joy is so unbridled I cannot help be overwhelmed with joy right alongside you.

Darling, you are a perfect combination of girly-little-princess-ballerina-with-pearls and please-let-me-pick-up-thirty-worms-in-the-rain.  You keep us on our toes, trying to keep up with what you adore and what you dislike.  I'm so thankful you are brave enough to try new things.  I promise you, we will be eating spaghetti soon, and I really do think you will like it.  I mean, you tell me all the time how your favorite foods are salmon and cottage cheese, and I have seen you eat noodles and sauce before.  I think you're just trying to pull one over on me, really.

Oh, beautiful, Norah B, I cannot wait to see what this next year has in store for you.  You finally will attain your dream of going to kindergarten, and I'll be left all alone to drive to work in the mornings.  I know you're going to do amazing at school, and I pray that you love it as much as you believe that you will.

I also pray that you will always stay kind.  I pray your heart will continue to grow and shine God's love to everyone around you.  I pray that you will change the world for the good.  I pray you will always know that you really are a princess- a daughter of the King.  I know we have talked about it before.  I pray that every time you feel the world tries to knock you down, you stand up, tall and strong, and press on with bravery and grace.  I pray that every single day you find numerous reasons to laugh.  I pray you never stop singing.  I pray that you never feel that you are anything short of a treasure.

Your brothers and I are so thankful for you.  I know it's not always easy growing up the "baby" of the family with two older brothers who are bigger and stronger than you and who, as you say, get their way more often (I promise you that's not true, at least I don't think it is...) but you round out our little family perfectly.  While you and the boys might get so sick of each other and fight about the most random of things, I know that you will always love and each other, stand by each other, and have each other's backs.  I see it daily.  Those brothers, they adore you.  Don't ever forget the countless times they call you a princess, and mean it with sincere love.  Don't forget how they agree to play dolls or superhero dolls, horses, or tea party with you.  Don't forget how they like to try to teach you things, too.  I know Spencer gets frustrated that you don't know how to multiply yet, but consider it a compliment that he thinks you're just that advanced.

Thank you, Norah, for showing us sunshine we didn't know before you came along.  Thank you for never letting anyone dim your fire.  Thank you for all the snuggles, the hugs, the kisses, and the laughs.

I love you, Sweet Pea.

-Momma

A little bit of three left

My Sweet Sunshine,

Yesterday, you told me, "Mama, I only have a little bit of three left."

While beaming with pride at your brilliance and innocence, my heart began to fiercely ache.

Four years ago, I struggled to sleep, my whole body sore and tired, waiting for you to arrive the next day. Tonight, only my heart is sore and tired, reflecting on the four years that seemed to inch forward at times, but truly bursting forth in a flash.

It's so hard for a momma to savor every moment of your innocent infant and toddlerhood, as the days are often fraught with mundane daily chores, meltdowns, and little sleep, and I sit here with regret knowing so many moments were lost and not cherished as they should have been.

As a whole, though, my darling, I have cherished our almost four years of sharing gazes, snuggles, and memories.

Miss Norah, you have become such an outgoing, spunky, opinionated, sassy, sweet, loving, gorgeous ray of sunshine. You remind us all what is kind and unkind, and grace everyone with forgiveness. You falter, as we all do, and meet correction with resistance initially, but always come back with the humble willingness to try again. You are friend to so many, and kind to most everyone we meet, whether you know them or not.

I love listening to your narrative play, especially when you narrate by song. You have such a creative mind. I love how much you love our cats. I love watching you do things when you don't realize it. You make my heart so happy.

Your zest for life is so catchy and you become elated over some of the most peculiar and mundane things, and it is joyous to watch you react. Your love for unicorns, kittens, and elephants, is especially wonderful.

You are gentle but also rough. You are sugar and spice. You burn with the love of Jesus.

I pray countless blessings over you in your fourth year. I pray you continue to bring joy to those around you. I pray you feel the love of Jesus continue to grow in your heart and that you are able to bring His love to the hearts of others. I pray you know your worth and never doubt how beautiful, intelligent, and amazing you are.

You are a treasure, baby girl!

We are so lucky to have you.

Happy fourth birthday tomorrow, sweet girl.

She opened her window.

My beautiful Sweet Pea has been emotional for the last 10 days or so, quite clingy, and not quite herself sometimes.  I've been wondering what was going on, but was unable to pinpoint it.  Tonight, I think I am better able to understand. Tonight, after bedtime prayers, my sweet, sassy, perfectly quirky little princess opened the window to her heart for me, for one of the very first times in a way that both nearly broke my own heart, and amazed me with the depth of her self-knowledge and ability to articulate her emotions with clarity beyond her young three-years.  I had kissed her goodnight, as she said to me (roughly, edited to remove some names), "Mama, my friends don't see me anymore and play with me and don't like me anymore.  They're my best friends and I love them and I miss them."  

You see, almost two weeks ago, she went through a big transition at daycare, where she spends the majority of her time.  She moved from one floor to the next, from young toddler rooms to older rooms where the preschoolers are growing up.  And, while it isn't a big deal geographically, or in many ways, it dawned on me tonight, that it's a big change to her.  

She's been making it seem pretty breezy and not that big of a deal, even though her mama was sad about it at first.  She loves the kids and staff upstairs and will thrive and flourish in the new environment, and I haven't been worried about it at all.

But tonight, as I tried to calm her fears that her friends do in fact still like her, love her, and even miss her too, I realized that she was feeling her first real insecurity.

That time and distance mean people don't care, don't like you, don't miss you, or don't love you.

It's a common thought, even for adults, so I was blown away by her innocent little saddened heart.

After comforting her and reassuring her that she is loved, that her friends miss her, and some will soon be back in the same room as her with the new schedule, teachers, friends, and environment, I left the room and began thinking about what had just occurred.  I understand where she's coming from.

Her previous transitions at daycare have all been on one floor, with schedules that are relatively similar, where she would see the same people passing in hallways.  Her last transitions were done at a younger age where, while still forming attachments to teachers and children, she wasn't as mature and able to process and fear things like she does now.

So this was her first big change at daycare.   She still sees some of her most beloved people on a regular basis, but there are a lot of empty spaces in her day that used to be filled by people she had grown exceptionally close to.

Not only that, but on another level, I can feel her equating that to some of her past experiences where he dad was absent from her life.

And I can understand why she may feel that gaps in time and distance can affect relationships.

I mean, really, they often do.  Only the strong ones survive and grow, I suppose.  It's amazing to me that she is so young and already experiencing these sort of friendship quandaries. 

So, to my darling little three-year-old, her heart is in some sort of jeopardy, and it's my blessing and burden to calm her fears and speak life, truth, and love into her heart, just as with her brothers.  I try to build up their store-houses with these things, to help build their self-esteem, knowing that the way of the world is often to bring you down.  I never want my children to feel worthless, unloved, or anything other than of exceptional value and worthy of the deepest, most sincere love on earth.

They're treasures, and they should know it.

While this moment where the window was open was over an insecurity, I am so fortunate that she chose to open up to me, share her deepest fear at this moment with me, and trusted me with her heart.  I wish I could make her feel better, but aside from praying, which we did, only time will heal.  

And, my darling, my sweet, sweet girl, I can assure you, you are worth missing, and you are loved by those that you  miss right now.  

In the morning, she will be three.

My sweet, beautiful girl,

Tonight, I laid you down, and you told me "tomorrow is my birthday, mama."  We said our bedtime prayer, which ends "God is great, God is great (you insist we say it twice), AMEN!" You asked me for a kiss, and then a hug, and then to cover you up, and then for a kiss, and then for a hug, as you do almost every night.  I closed the door behind me after hugging and kissing your brothers and turning out the light, and I breathed deeply as I realized that tonight is the last night of this year of your life.  It tugs at my heart.

This is the first year you've shown excitement about it, after celebrating a few other birthdays over the year, your memory being much more acute, and feeling traditions take place as you and your brothers grow older.  I'm excited for your excitement, though it's bittersweet to see you transition from baby-hood even further.

Darling girl, tonight, you're still two.  Tomorrow, you'll be three.

I sit here thinking about how, growing up, I had hoped that someday I would have a daughter.  In my mind, she would be a perfect, smiling ball of joy, with curly hair, and beautiful features.  She would be kind and smart and so much more.  After God blessed me with your two brothers, I felt it was my calling in life, loving them so deeply, to be a mom to three or four boys, and felt I would never have a daughter.  I don't know why I felt this way, and it was bittersweet, but I was so sure.   When I was told you were on the way, I didn't believe it until they placed you on my chest, and you were in fact my little girl.  Every day since then, it has made so much sense that you were brought into our lives.  I didn't ever imagine you would fulfill my dreams to precisely.  You belong with us, and God knew it.

My heart can hardly handle another birthday.  Yet another year has flown by too quickly, though, fortunately, the chaos in our lives has slowed down quite a bit, and this transition from two to three years of life with you is much clearer in my memory and I feel I was much more focused on our days together, enjoying them, savoring them, and cherishing them.  Not that I didn't in years past, but someday, you'll understand what I mean when I say they were busier and harder and much more muddled together.

Not this year.

This year, I watched you blossom from a young toddler into a much more mature toddler.  I've heard your vocabulary soar with countless words and phrases I have never heard a two-year-old use before.

I've seen your sweet little self turn a little more sassy, as I was warned may happen over time.  I miss the days when I don't have to remind you to use a "kind voice," but I cherish your personality all the same.

I've seen you grow so tall, your hair so long and curly, your eyes so wide and filled with deep wonder.  You've become very independent, but you still totter back and forth from being "big" and "little" where sometimes you want to do everything on your own, and other times you'll cry on the floor because you think you need to be carried.  I'm sorry when I don't give in to the tantrums.  It's not because I don't want to carry you, it's just that I don't want to fuel that behavior.  I do, in fact, love that sometimes you still want to be carried, and I love the feeling of your arms wrapped around me as I carry you.  Your brothers very rarely express that desire anymore, and I know it will be all too soon that you won't want me to, either.  You use the most adorable phrase when you want to be held, as you tell me "I want to hold you," even though you really mean it the other way around.

I love that you still want to cuddle, sit on my lap, and snuggle in bed sometimes.  I love that you still ask for a kiss and a hug when I drop you off at daycare or Sunday School in the mornings, and that you still want them both before bed at night.

I love when you call me "Mama" instead of "mommy," and I don't know why.

You've got an excellent memory, little lady.  You know almost everyone's name at daycare and Sunday School, and you can recall the middle names, favorite colors, and eye colors of the people who mean most to you, assuming you've inquired what these things are already.

You love music, and art, the outdoors, and your blanket. In the morning, your favorite cat is Benjamin, but when we get home at night, your favorite cat is Lucy.  They both love you, and they're so gentle with you.  When you're sick, they are by your side.  You recently developed a love for birds, and you proclaim it almost daily.  You also love tigers, and dogs, and fish, and bunnies, and lions, and horses, and ponies, and unicorns...  I'm sorry I couldn't give you a pet tiger for your birthday like you requested repeatedly.  Someday, you'll understand.

You've surprised me and gone from wearing diapers full time to barely wearing them at all, and you're so proud of your big girl status in this area.  While I'm grateful that the diaper budget has dwindled immensely and I don't have to change diapers all day every day, it's a reminder that you're not going to be little for much longer.

I love listening to you sing songs and narrate your play.  You've such a bright imagination.  I love that you will play with both of your brothers on a daily basis.  They love you dearly and they make sure you know it.  They are so good about building you up with positive affirmations and compliments.  I hope you'll always remember how beautiful they think you are, even if sometimes they're not being very nice to you.

Baby girl, soon you will lose the remaining baby features on your little body, and become a preschooler like your brothers.  I pray you'll take the days a little more slowly than you have been over the past year.  I know you want to go to kindergarten, too, but you've only a few short years to be a tiny little girl.  Don't rush through them, please.

I pray that as you grow older, you'll continue to be kind, gentle, intelligent, helpful, and hilarious.  I hope you'll want to spin in a dress for years to come, rock baby dolls gently, and give hugs freely.

You light up every room you walk into with a smile full of sunshine.

I pray that I will always be able to remember the deep chocolate color of your bright eyes, the spirals in the back of your hair as they dry after bath, your dark, long eyelashes, especially as you sleep against my shoulder sometimes, the warmth of your tiny little hand as it holds my finger while we walk, and the jubilant melody of your laugh, among everything else about you.

I pray you'll always let Jesus in your heart, and show other's his goodness.  I pray you'll be a blessing to each person you come across.

Miss Norah, you stole our hearts from the get-go.  Cherish it as we cherish you.

Thank you for all of the joy you bring to this world.

I love you, Sweet Pea.
-Mama

On Your Second Birthday, my Princess

Sweet, beautiful, baby girl,

Tomorrow, when you wake, my gorgeous one-year-old daughter will cease to be, and in her place, a two-year-old will wake.

It seems surreal that I've blinked so many times that yet another year of your short, miraculous life has passed.  It cannot be true.  And yet, it is.

My momma-heart aches for your baby-hood to remain longer.  I want to linger in this infant and toddler moments a while before the sun sets and rises too many more times and you are a preschooler.  The years, fly by, even though some days it seems that time slows down due to the chaos of life.  But what they say is true, these years go by much too quickly.

I regret not rocking you to sleep more often in this past year.  I rocked you many times, but I could have held you against my beating heart more than I did.  I know it won't be long and you will not want to rock that way, and I will miss it so much.

I find it harder to watch you grow up than your brothers, simply because you're my baby, I think.  Although, the fact that you're my only daughter, and that I never imagined I would have a daughter has some weight as well.

Sweet Pea, you are such a joy.  You're a huge blessing, and a bright ray of sunshine every day, rain, sun, clouds, snow...  You just radiate beauty, love, and warmth.  Yes, of course you have your moments that are a little more cranky, bossy, or stubborn, but those are far less than the great moments.

You are so intelligent, little lady.  I know that parents automatically think that of their children, but your knowledge and language skills astound me.  You have spoken so clearly and with such a vast vocabulary for months that you would seem to be older than you are.  You have such a beautiful singing voice, even if at times, in the van, it's quite boisterous nonsensical vowel sounds.  I love listening to you sing "Jesus Loves Me," "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," "The Wheels on the Bus," the ABCs, the "Hokey Pokey," and the past few days, "Happy Birthday."  We have been talking about your birthday a lot this week, and many mornings, you've sang the song to me as the sun rises.  It's the most precious little thing.

Although you still sleep like your newborn self, waking multiple times most nights (I wouldn't mind if you slept a little better, you know.. just something to consider, perhaps a Mother's Day gift...), I love how happily you get ready for bed.   You tell your brothers "Nuh-night Brothers!" and beg for giant bear hugs from them, which they happily give you every night, before you climb in bed.  I sing "Jesus Loves Me" to you once, before I kiss your forehead and tell you "I love you, sweet dreams baby girl."  You tell me "Love you too!"

Pip, this past year has been incredible. It's been filled with anxious and sad moments for our family, for sure, but one thing is for certain, God knew what he was doing when he brought you into our lives.  The boys and I adore you so much.  I am so thankful that God has chosen me to be your mommy.

I pray for you daily, and I ask that God mold your heart to be warm, pure, and strong.  I hope you are filled with courage and strength.  I hope that you're brave, but wise.  I pray you find life-long, lasting friends, and that your memories are as joyful as possible.

I cannot wait to see you in the morning, Norah Rachelle, and to hug that little two-year-old body that I held for the first time not all that long ago, but ages ago, just the same.   The twinkle in your chocolate brown eyes when you whisper in my face is a memory I hope I never forget.

I love you, baby girl.

Always,
Momma Bear