5 years…

5 years ago you came into my life and since the very moment I saw your tiny wriggling fingers and toes I knew what I was meant to be.

Your mama.

5 years ago today I held 5 pounds of tiny unyielding miracle in my arms and since that moment not a day has gone by, K, which you haven’t grown more miraculous.

I’m not even thinking of the everyday miracles that you had to perform in your short 5 years, like learning to cry, laugh, smile, roll over, eat, walk and talk. Then there was easy potty training, sentence structure, your 123’s and ABC’s, learning the names of too many super heroes to count, every Disney princess, all 4 Wiggles, and the 5 Backyardigans. See? Miracles.

Even as you sit composing and arranging a musical production of yet unimagined proportions for your super heroes and fairies to perform I am awed by you.

I am awed because I know that no matter what I create or accomplish in my lifetime I will never do a thing more important than bringing you into this world.

You are the future, and as lame as that sounds, as much as it makes that horrible Whitney Houston song run through my head, it’s true. You are everything I have hope for in the world. I can not wait to see you live your life, to watch you as you grow and learn, and to see what miracles you will perform in the next 5 years.

Thank you K for being more than I ever imagined and all that I could hope for. I love you.

4 thoughts on “5 years…

  1. mielikki says:

    So tired from a crazy night at work, but couldn’t go to bed without wishing K a happy, fun birthday. Tell her I hope being five doesn’t suck! Much loveT

  2. CamiKaos says:

    Over toast her reply was “It doesn’t suck. It’s fun. You can do stuff!” I’m off to get the birthday girl to school.xoxoxo…

Leave a Reply to julie Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.