Dear Middle Child: A Letter To My Only Daughter

Dear Charlie,

It’s hard to believe you are already two years old. On one hand, I feel like I have known you for 100 years, and on the other it seems like you just got here. To say you have given me a run for my money these last couple of years is an understatement. Even as I write this, you are trying to do back flips off the couch. You will then transition to cuddling your baby doll, then quickly shift back to stunts and injuries. I call you my sour patch kid. You have two settings: elated sweetheart and monster. There is no in between. Since the day you were born, you have kept me on my toes. While your brothers have been mostly predictable and mellow (thus far), you have been everything but.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what people say about the “strong-willed” ones. There’s always a quote floating around about how the strong willed children will become the leaders of their generation. I think about how much your generation will need leaders, especially women. How badly we need strong, independent girls who also love fiercely. This world doesn’t even know how lucky they are to have you.

On the days when you have me crying in a corner with a glass of wine, I stay sane by remembering what a beautiful human I’m raising. You have more personality and confidence packed into a 23 pound body than most adults. You are already witty, kind, inquisitive, and tough. I don’t know how I know, but I believe you will always stand up for your truth. I believe you will be a girl who knows her worth and never settles for less than she deserves. I believe your unique blend of gentle love and fearless ambition will take you wherever you want to go. I believe that who you are will reach great heights.

Ever since I was pregnant with you, everything surrounding your life has been 100 mph. I never know what’s going to happen next and there’s no such thing as normal. You live life your way, on your schedule. While that makes for quite a few gray hairs, sleepless nights, and glasses of wine in our house, I know that one day that part will settle down. (Or maybe not.) Nevertheless, I hope you know that no matter how many times we have to say “no” or how many times you have to go to time-out, that we love who you are.

Brave is beautiful. Strong is beautiful. Living out loud is beautiful.

I love you so much, and I couldn’t be more proud of the tiny person you are and the powerful woman you will someday become. I’m honored to be your mama and I’m lucky that you are my one and only baby girl.

-Mommy

Romper and Bonnet c/o Willow & Hazel