I miss writing to you. Every single day you amaze me. Just recently you started calling the shots, asking me things like, “mama, what does a cow say?”
“You tell me,” I responded.
“I asked you,” you said back.
“Yes. Mommy. Great. Now what does the moon say?”
…you get it. You are pretty amazing.
Then on the 20th (2/20/15), you looked up in the dining room as we ate dinner and said, “that’s the lettah ‘o’, and ‘i’ and ‘h’.”
You were right about one letter; the ‘o’. Daddy and I asked if you knew what that spelled, and you turned your head up towards the sparkly red letters left up from Christmas and in the most gleeful demeanor squealed, “yeah, it says ‘magical.’”
Adelaide… there’s nothing else in this world that you are.
My. Heart. Stopped. Then it grew until I thought I would not be able to catch my breath again. Trying to keep my cool, I took a sip of wine and looked at your dad. We had a rare moment where we could not remember what life was like without you and, at the same time, remembered all the days we’d spent without you and wondered why we’d waited so long to have you. All in one look. The whole world outside of you and your sister ceased to exist as we digested the amazing children you both are.
We love you, sweet girl.
You, Adelaide Eileen, are magical.
Forever and always,