Me: Sylvie, what do you want for your birthday?
You: Ummm, cake.
Me: Alright, we can have cake. Do you want anything else for your birthday?
You: Yes. Ummm… fire.
You: I’ll blow it out, Maggie.
Me: ooohh, you want candles?
You: yes. candles. I want fire.
Me: Ok, so you want cake and fire, do you want any friends at your birthday?
You: Yes. Cake friends.
Me: Got it.
When you woke up this morning, you walked out of your room into a hallway filled with balloons, and while still only halfway awake you excitedly whispered, “It’s my burphday!”. You’ve been singing happy birthday to yourself all week.
I have been anticipating this day for weeks. I’ve been anticipating the look of pure joy on your face as we celebrate you – just the fact that we have you, and you are here with us, and that God made you to be just who you are!
God uses you in my life every day. This sounds so cliché, but I really, truly don’t know where I would be, how my life would work without you.
You are so full of joy, it seeps out of every pore. Sometimes when you get excited, it seems like you can’t quite figure out how to get your smile to be big enough. Now when you want to show me you are excited, you just drop whatever you are holding, smile as big as you can, start shaking your arms and jumping up and down, until a huge high pitched squeal comes escaping from your mouth from way down deep.
Don’t lose that. I hope that on your graduation and when you see your first baby and on your 90th birthday that you still exude such joy.
I am floored by the way you are talking. Every day you say something that I didn’t know you knew how to express. You’re speaking in full sentences and can carry on a full conversation. Yesterday you talked to your Nana on the phone for at least a full 5 minutes with absolutely no prompting from me.
You can sing the entire ABC’s along with a myriad of other songs. You’re quite the singer. At night you always want your Daddy to sing to you, but you always have to songs picked out ahead of time, and you are very clear as to which songs he is to sing or not to sing. (strong willed? um, yes.) In fact, you always know exactly what you want. And you always let us know.
You’ve moved completely into your big girl bed now, which breaks my heart just a little. You even look big when you sleep now.
I know it’s too early yet to know what your talents will be, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that you are going to be a lot like your Daddy. Why? Well, you can count to 25 on your own and you know all of your shapes down to a crescent and an octagon. You love to put together puzzles on the iPad, and you do it very well. But colors? Colors don’t seem to even cross your radar. I don’t think they interest you in the least.
You are still over the top active with no signs of slowing down. We go to the park pretty much every day so you can run some of that off! You love, love, love to swing. Whenever I pull you back and let you go you usually give a little giggle and say, “Wow Maggie, this is fun!”
Which reminds me – you call me Maggie now. All the time. For a while I tried to get you to call me Mommy, but you hear Bella call me Maggie all the time and I think it’s stuck. It’s really not as endearing as Mommy or Mama, but it will have to do.
I love being with you. I love watching you grow and learn and try new things. I love your snuggles and your kisses. I love watching you play with your sisters. And even when I think I might go crazy and go out by myself for an evening, I miss you and look forward to seeing you as soon as I get home.
You are a gift.
I pray for you always. I pray for your character and that God will work in you to produce a woman that is generous, caring, gentle, and compassionate. (Common theme there – sharing isn’t your forte these days.) I pray he will use me to teach you about selfless, undying, unconditional love – the love He has for you. I pray He will give me the strength to live the gospel out in front of you.
Thank you in advance for the grace I will require as your mother. Know that I love you always. More.
Happy second birthday Sylvie Sue.
Love you, love you, love you,