I can’t remember where I first stumbled upon a “Letters to My Daughter” style post, but I knew right away it was a project I wanted to do for my girl. One letter, once a month, bound into a tangible book at the end of the year. There’s something about having memories written down to read and re-read over and over again that really appeals to me.
Because of how late I waited to have her (and really I say that like I’m ancient when I’m not), I worry I won’t be around to share how I feel with her, what makes me tick and those things that have defined my life. These are also for me, for when old age grabs ahold of me and I start to forget what once was.
So here begin the letters to my daughter…
——————– ❤❤❤ ——————–
January 31st, 11:33 A.M.
My wonderful girl –
This is the first time I’m writing you a letter. Not because I can’t talk to you directly, but so that when I start forgetting the details of raising you, you’ll have something to look back on and remember. You’ll have a piece of me always, whether I am with you or not. And in truth, I wish I had start writing letters to you earlier.
When you were born, I almost couldn’t believe it. This tiny little thing laying in my arms. Oh so plump from the petocin they gave me, because I had a hard time delivering you, but there you were. 10 perfect little fingers and 10 perfect little toes. No one could be more perfect.
And as you’ve grown, you’ve just become more beautiful by the day. I remember you so small thinking I could never love you any more than I did at that moment, but as each day passes, I love you more and more. I read the other day that a parent’s love for a child is the closest we will ever come to understanding how much God loves us. I feel like God uses you to melt away all the frigid corners of my heart and show me how much He loves me…and it just makes me love you that much more. Aside from your daddy, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.
You are now 3 years and 4 months old. But you’re so tall you look like you’re 5! And sometimes I forget you’re still a baby and reasoning is beyond you. You’ve been spending a lot of time in the corner and just the other night, Daddy had to take away the toys you thought you could take with you. With your back turned to us, sometimes we can’t help but giggle at the predicament.
You take ballet… are friends with a little girl, Lilly, who you adore and call your “best friend”… love to play with Legos and drink tons of strawberry milk. We’re still trying to potty train you: You – 3. Mommy & Daddy – 0… and it’s giving me premature grays. You cover my mouth when you’ve deemed I’ve given you too many kisses and you tell me “That’s enough!” when I’ve taken too many photos for your liking.
You have attitude… And we’re in trouble.
If I haven’t already told you today, I love you oh. so. much.
Tags: Canon Rebel, family, Nikon D600, photography
Categories: Letters to My Daughter, Personal