Oh, my heart.
My baby girl turned eight years old yesterday.
Eight feels like a big number... but not as big as ten felt last week.
I love 8 though... I can honestly say that.
It's funny because I hate the fact that they even have to get older in the first place, because it's just dumb,
but then again I love seeing the people they are growing into at the same time.
I love who they were, who they are right at this moment, and who they are growing into.
Something I don't think I quite "got" completely when I first became a parent, is that it truly is a gift to get to do so -
and by that I mean every stage, every issue, every rough time, every time you feel like you are failing as a parent--
all of it.
This is a gift.
Oh, but this girl.
This girl is a writer, a storyteller already at such a young age.
She is an animal lover with a funny sense of humor.
She is a little girl that is wise beyond her years that loves to draw.
And paint.
She is brave and loves adventures.
She likes trying new things and will often encourage her brother when he is unsure.
She will say things like; "I wish mommy was here to see this sunset..."
She writes me letters and tells me what a great mommy I am.
She loves school and her family and walks around with a book in her hand most of the time.
She always has a new favorite doll or stuffed animal and she hopes to go to Paris one day.
She loves "cute things" and is a tomboy at the same time.
She loves reading about The Titanic and American history.
Charlotte is named after my grandma, Elizabeth Charlotte.
They never got to meet but oh, this little girl of mine inherited not only a name but some of my grandma's sweetness as well, I just
know in my heart she did.
I am so very lucky to have her and her brother in my life.
Happy 8th Birthday, Miss Charlotte Rose.
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