A Letter to my Daughter Penelope and her First Birthday

A Letter to my Daughter Penelope:

December 21, 2018 (Your 1^stbirthday)

I never thought it was my sole duty in life to become a mother. I knew eventually I would, but I wasn’t in a hurry, and I wasn’t even quite sure I’d even be good at it. It seems silly to write this now since you won’t be able to read it for years to come, but I wanted to get the thoughts down on my keyboard before I got interrupted (by you nonetheless). As I was sitting here tonight making your baby book online (things we moms do now since technology is ever-present), I just felt so many emotions, almost more than I could bear.

In Target the other day I picked up a newborn sleeper and held it up to you while you were sitting in the cart watching my every move. I still think of you as SO small, but yet somehow near that tiny newborn outfit, it made your 24lbs frame look SO big. When did that happen my little girl? When did you get four teeth, learn to pull up and self-feed and everything else that comes with being on the Earth 12 whole months?!? I feel like those sleepless nights were just yesterday, not 365 days ago. I remember vividly being so tired, so spent and so not myself. I cried a lot those first weeks and was so gentle with your little arms as I changed your diapers and washed your tiny body. I kept wondering when life would get back to normal. But what I didn’t realize was that my life was changed forever, that “normal” would never be again.

The truth is, I thought I knew most of what I needed in life before becoming a mother. I would lie awake in bed at night when I was pregnant thinking of all of the things I’d teach you and show you and help you learn and develop to make you into a good, kind person. And you have baby girl, oh, you have. You have learned and developed and smiled your way through a whole year- touching so many people’s hearts along the way.

I was so wrong about motherhood. All of it.

I thought I would be your guiding light, but baby girl, you are mine. YOU have taught me more in the last 365 days than I could ever teach you in a lifetime. While I have wanted you to be a kind, happy and humble child, I am the one who has grown.

You changed me. Not only did you stretch my body, test my sanity and make me fully aware of how such little sleep can affect a person, you also taught me selflessness and the deepest love one can ever know. You introduced me to a person I’d never met before…myself as a mother.

In the last 12 months, 365 days, 8,760 hours and 525,600 minutes you have learned to keep your head up, roll over, sit up, hold your bottle, stand, climb stairs, say words and laugh that deep belly laugh that makes both your daddy and me melt into water like snowmen on sunny warm winter days.

In all of those months, days, hours and seconds, I have learned to not take myself so seriously. I have stopped stressing about the kitchen being perfectly clean (thanks to all of your blueberries on the floor). I dress you in cute outfits and forget to brush my own teeth or hair and I can now hold my bladder for hours on end because I know your stroller is hard to maneuver in a public restroom. You took a very type-A, perfectionist personality and made her laugh at diaper blowouts and vomit covered shirts. Now instead of worrying about clean kitchens, I worry about fevers and how painful teething is. I worry about someone hurting you or your first broken heart.

But this letter to you isn’t about me. It’s about you; wonderful, beautiful, happy girl. Everyone keeps telling us that sleeping through the night at four months isn’t normal and people stop me in the grocery store and ask me if you’re always so happy. My answer is always yes. You are a dream little one and we are so lucky. A perfect, smiley, ornery, dancing, smiley dream and one that God decided to make ours.

I won’t fill this letter with advice for the future because I want to talk about it daily over the next years upon years as you grow into a beautiful girl and then lady and then woman. I will be older and more wrinkled by then, but I will love you and our chats the same. Instead, I will leave you with this:

Be kind, to everyone. Even those mean to you. They are only mean because they have something they feel badly about. You never know the struggle someone else is fighting.

Be patient, in all of life. Because patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait and work hard (just ask Daddy).

Love, so much and everyone…every.single.day. It truly is the greatest gift to give and receive.

Penelope Grace, you are everything I never knew I needed (remind me of this letter when I complain about makeup smeared into your bedroom carpet, prom dress costs and college tuition), but you have given me more in this last year than I’ll ever give to you in a lifetime. You changed my outlook on this life, made me love your Daddy so much deeper (every time he dotes on you I swoon) and made me appreciate a gift  far beyond words that not everyone has the opportunity to experience.

You created a new me and you have changed me for the better.

I am so lucky you are ours.

XX

Loving this letter to my daughter feature? Take a look here for more of my motherhood favorites!

You can read about my pregnancy thoughts here and Penelope’s Birth Story here.