Dear Sweet Priscilla,
At about the time I knew your name, I knew in my heart what the Lord spoke over you. “This baby brings change.” This one brings change. And you did. And you will. You, my sweet girl, bring change.
I’ve been told that an easy baby, often turns into a challenging toddler. You were an exceptionally easy baby. You are a delightfully tricky toddler. There is no battle you are unwilling to fight. No “no” you will not rage against. And boy are you good at that. Time out doesn’t work unless I carry you all the way to your room, and you can hold a grudge better than any two-year-old I’ve run into. Last time I picked you up from the baby sitter, you were refusing to make eye contact with her. She dared to make you put away the toys.
I’m not going to lie. The little change maker you are isn’t the easiest personality to parent. I know to choose my battles wisely. There aren’t any you won’t fight, and a lot of things you see as completely unfair. I love this about you, even as I am fighting this in you, I love this about you.
I don’t want to kill the urge in you to rage against the things that aren’t fair. I want to refine your sense of justice, so you don’t waste any of that tiny fight on the things that don’t matter. So you can be a force that changes the whole world. I am not going to be perfect at this. You are going to have to be a little patient with me.
It is no surprise that you came so close after your sister. You are her smaller, hilarious shadow. It is only in the past week that you have decided your name is Priscilla. Earlier in the year you were telling everyone that you were Juliet. Now you announce your name un-prompted every fifteen minutes or so. “I Rilla, I PRISCILLA!” I am so glad you know who you are.
You have your dad and I in giggle fits pretty regularly. There is no situation you can’t find the humor in. No time your dimples aren’t likely to peak out as you give notice you are about to have a good time. You are the life of the party my girl, even when it is just a party of one.
Your arrival was a bit of a surprise, and you continue to surprise me. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I love you.
Wish I could be there to wish you a happy birthday in person and to listen when life isn’t fair – not that I would ever disagree with Mommy. Love, Gram
LOVELY. I had two girls close together as well, and that second one was a pistol. And I adored them both, so different, so close. AND THEY STILL ARE. They’ve even chosen the same profession (special ed teachers, working with blind students, so I’ve heard lots of IEP stories). She was feisty, volatile and a challenge. But my, what a girl – and, what a woman. Hang in, hang on. It’s so worth it.
I know it is. But it is a ride!
Yup. And you’ll cry a lot of tears, swear, pull your hair, wonder what in the world you’ve gotten yourself into, have lots of late night chats, hear doors slam and “I hate you!” more often than you ever dreamed, worry about her decisions, get her psychological help when needed, and pray, pray, pray. And then? Then you see miracles of grace and beauty and love. And the perfect partner for her life journey. And three strong, smart sons growing to manhood with integrity and faith. And all that pushback, that feistiness, that bubbling laughter, that deep sense of fun? It will, by the grace of God, produce a profoundly gifted and giving adult. Picture it in your mind and hang onto it, okay? It happens.
Oh she sounds like my Abigail 🙂
Happy Birthday sweet girl!
Happy Birthday Baby Girl. This one brings Change. Change for the Lord. Mighty in poweeeeeeer gentle and filled with joy. Kinsman to Holy Spirit (who also brings chang)e in the spirit. Marked by love and of course diaperchange #3768. Boppa Loves you.
Happy Birthday Rilla!
I could never find the girl of my dreams until now.
It must be a wonderful feeling for a father to care for his daughter.
I wish her all the best.
And I wish she’ll bring about change, not only in her surrounding, but on a much larger scale.
Unfortunately I have neither Bachelor nor Master in prophecies 🙂
Friendly greetings from continental Europe.
Lothars Sohn – Lothar’s son