Eight years of giggles, of shiny blond curls, of big blue eyes, of soulful gazes shared across inches, feet and sometimes, across a room.
Eight years of kissing boo boos and soothing hurt feelings, of watching her grow and learn and become.
Become what? Who knows? But I can't wait for the coming year, the coming decade with my girl.
At eight, Alyssa still loves horses and dogs. She dotes on her little sister and is a faithful friends to kids she met way back in kindergarten.
She's very physical, running or cartwheeling from room to room. She's got a wacky sense of humor, finding joy in the smallest toys won from those silly 'grabby' games at the entrance to most stores. Her imagination is limitless.
Second grade has been good to her, brought her even farther out of her shell. She's made good friends and learned to trust her own sense of self more and more.
I couldn't be prouder of this girl, this eight year old, this girl who made me a mother eight whole years ago. She changed my life, made it so very much better than I ever imagined it could be. I'm so grateful to whatever fates let me be a part of her life, for letting me watch her, learn from her, teach her, be loved by her and most of to love her. I'm so very, very blessed to be able to shower this child with all the love in my heart, today and every other day of the past eight years and I pray that we get countless more years to laugh and love and grow together.
A mom, a dad and two daughters. We're living ordinary lives with a twist of 5p- (Cri du Chat) for spice. But we're about so much more than our younger daughter's genetic diagnosis.
No comments:
Post a Comment