My Mister Miles B.,

I often look in your eyes and wonder what you're thinking. You're such an old soul, even at almost-eight. We sometimes joke with you that you're an old man, but in reality you are wise beyond your years and have a sensitive spirit. You sense things that others don't. I admire your kindness, compassion, and genuine concern for others.

You are a rule-follower. (I hope that stays!) You recognize that rules are in place to keep us safe. You're my little police man, always making sure that everyone else is following the rules, especially little sister. You are logical and level-headed, just like your daddy.

I love that you're a leader. You don't seem to mind what others say about you. Even in second-grade, AKA "the tattling years" I have not once heard you complain about classmates being unkind. Because of your sensitive spirit, it is a deep fear of mine that you will be picked on. You seem to rise above it all.

I cannot fathom what your future holds. You have so much promise. I could absolutely see you as an engineer, doctor, or even, the president (God help us!). You are meticulous to detail and always want to do things the right way. And who on earth did you get your math skills from? Definitely not your parents.

My Little Bug, as you are about to turn eight, it is my prayer that you will always find your way in this big world. That you will never stray from the truth that is inside of you. And that you will always remember where home is.

I love you,
Mommy

Happy Birthday, Monkey-Man! 

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For seven years (gosh, almost 8!) I have been meaning to write letters to my children. I have started and failed continuously. Even bought a journal especially for this purpose. Who knows if I will continue with it or not, but at least they will each have one. So without further adieu, here is the first, to my dear Elise.


Oh, Lissy,

You, my dear, are spit-fire. I have to admit, I envy your carefree and wild heart, though at times I want to bang my head against the wall in frustration.

How is it that in a mere two and a half years, you have developed such a clear personality? You are stubborn, sarcastic, witty, and sweet. You know what you want and are never afraid of asking for it. No, not asking. Demanding.

I shudder to think of the years ahead, the unforgiving hormones that await you. You live on the cliff of hysteria. One misstep, and you're hurtling through the air into a raging tantrum. "Come ON!" You shout at the toys that just won't fit into your purse.

But then you come back, and you give the sweetest gestures. Elephant kisses and giraffe hugs. You are my cuddler. You would like nothing more in this world than to curl up in the rocking chair with mom, and read stories for hours on end, namely "Bye-Bye Crib." (Really, could we give it a rest?) I love our Fridays together, when brother is still at school and you get mom all to yourself.

I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for you, Little Miss. The world is your oyster.

Love for always,
Mommy

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