Today my baby turns two and I’m finding myself in a strangely emotional and sentimental place. I think it has something to do with the fact that whenever any of my kids have turned two, I’ve always either just recently had another baby, or am expecting another baby soon. This time, no new babies, in arms or in belly. And now my last baby is hardly a baby anymore. Probably not a baby at all by a lot of people’s standards. And I’m sure not a baby by her own standards, as she loves more and more to do things by herself. But still a baby to me, if only because I’m working very hard to convince myself that it is true.
The last two years, wow, so fast. Sometimes I feel like I’m still getting used to having Ivy around, to having a daughter, to this new little person, but then of course I feel like she’s always been here, like life before her didn’t really exist.
I love her so fiercely; her gentleness, her sweet and generous kisses, her strong mothering instinct, even though she’s still needs so much mothering herself. Her empathetic heart and the way she apologizes and hugs so quickly when she’s hurt someone else (i.e. Oliver). Her feisty-ness, her independence, her playfulness and cheekiness, her spirit and attitude.
She’s just the right mix of girly and tough and I just hope so much that she always knows, (AlWAYS!), just how much we all love her. She should know that she is treasured and cherished by all of us. She should know how much her brothers love to make her laugh, and love to laugh at her silly-ness too. She should know how much they love being with her and how much they want her to be happy. I hope she can see how proud they are of her.
She should know, too, what a precious, precious gift she is to me and her dad.
Happy birthday dear Ivy!
ps. Her birth. (The pictures make me cry every time!)