Dear Juliet*,
Yesterday you turned three. You were supposed to go to the doctor, something you have been talking about all week, but I took the car seats with me to work (again) and we will have to reschedule. I suppose it is best you learn now that we all are doing the best we can and we all need grace, even your mom. Especially your mom.
Today, and for the rest of your life, this is what I need you to know: I delight in you. I think that you are amazing, I think that you are incredible, I am blessed every single day I get to be your mom. I delight in you.
This is the year that you have grown from being my baby to being my girl. “I not a baby” you tell me. I suppose you are right, but you are my baby. This is not the only thing you tell me. With the parents who are raising you it is no surprise you have a constant stream of words. Sometimes, when running errands with Aunt Jill, she turns to look me and says “your kid has no off button.” It is true. You fall asleep talking to your teddy bear and wake up talking to your sister.
I know a little something about having a lot of words, and I want to tell you now, before anyone tells you differently, that you are not too much. Your words and love and joy and laughter, and sometimes your howls of injustice and discontent, they spill out of you freely and boldly. Some will tell you to pipe down, to be a little less, to fit yourself into a shape that other people can handle. Please don’t do it. Please don’t construct dams that hold yourself back in order to somehow shape yourself into something else. You are already the right shape, you are not too much.
On your third birthday, I want you to know how proud and amazed by you I already am. You care so deeply, you find joy in everything, you are smart and kind and funny. You don’t ever have to try to be valuable. You don’t ever have to try to be loveable. You don’t ever have to be worthy. You already are. You are a delight, and I delight in you.
Love,
Mom
*programming note: I have decided to ditch the nicknames for my kids. I couldn’t tell you why exactly, it just feels like it is time.
Abby Norman 
That was so beautiful. I hope your child will someday realize how treasured she is and how wonderful it is to have something like this written.
First, Happy Birthday Juliet your Boppa loves you. Second, I am super proud of my Atlanta Bunch and can’t wait to see you. My heart bursts with happiness thinking about Saturday. Third, Please place a tear/snot alert at the top when you write like this so I can read it in private. Although Juliet on her third Birthday should have been a tip off I missed it. Your writing gets better and better. I’ll try to keep a tissue handy.
This is a beautiful post — things like this, when she gets older, will make her day and will serve as a wonderful reminder of how deeply loved she is. (My mom used to leave cards for me on my bed, in my lunch, etc., and they always made me incredibly happy.) Your dear girl is lucky to have you as her mama!
WHAT? You’re going to stop calling that cute little baby Rooster?
I wish every little girl could hear those words.
Me too.
Happy Birthday Juliet!
You must make sure you save this beautiful writing for her. She will so value it when she is 33.
YES. YES. YES. Much love to JuJu, and all of y’all, miss you so much! I’ll have a brownie Monday in her honor soon. xoxo
Here here! To Juliet!
or uhm, hear hear, rather 🙂
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To know you is to love you, Juliet.