To My Precious Lucy

Happy Birthday, Darlin’! I can’t believe you are 4!!!

Baby Girl! Just in case I don’t tell you enough, can I just say here how much I adore you? How much I love you? How much I need you? I cannot imagine my life without you. Well, I imagine I’d have less nail polish on my carpet, and I wouldn’t have to keep the scissors in the attic… but I’d also have less joy… because, my sweet baby… you give me so much joy.

It’s not just because you do the dishes…

It’s not because you eat your hot dogs in a silly way…

It’s not because you want to be just like me…

I love you because… because…

I don’t think there are words to truly tell you why I love you or how deeply I love you. You bring joy to everyone you are near. OK, sometimes anxiety, but usually joy You have a personality that draws people to you. Your magnetic smile and your giggles of pure innocence bring healing to the old, the grumpy, the weary. I see people watch you with delight. The charm you sprinkle all around is inspiring. Your energy is impressive, enviable and exhausting.

See that little boy you are dancing with? You don’t just exhaust us old people, you exhaust your friends. After this concert in the park, your friend “C” told his Mama,

“I am afraid to see Lucy again. She likes to dance A LOT and she REALLY makes me tired!”

You know, your daddy has said similar things about your mama… By the way, you call me “mama” and I LOVE it.

And with all your energy, your ability to crash and recharge never ceases to amaze me. I find you sleeping in the oddest places. It is as if you push yourself the to the very edge… not wanting to miss a thing. Your body shuts down right where you land… “Round and round and round she goes, where she stops…” the kitchen table, your car seat (of course) or between the couches…

You are a social butterfly. You LOVE people. Whenever we get a knock at the door, you fly to answer it — often screaming something like, “Oh! Friends!” Even if it is just the milk man, it is another way for you to get your “people fix”. Recently I took you to lunch at Subway. We sat near the door, and each time a new customer walked in you greeted them with excited hand waves, a hearty “HI!” and the most heart-warming smile. 

Your friends… they are so important already. You remind me of…. well, me. When I see you react to the sight of a good friend, my heart leaps. There is something precious about a heart-connection, and even as a 3 year old, I have seen that your love for certain peers bring deep joy to your young, vibrant heart:

You speak. A lot. You change your clothes. A. lot. You challenge. You have opinions. You are very, VERY sensitive. You don’t like to be told what to do… If you want an tenth cup of chocolate milk, I will have to say, “Well. You can have water or you can have nothing to drink. You choose.” The word “No” is a very hard word for you. You thrive in choices. “No” does not stand alone with you. We must work toward it.

Did I mention “control”? My sweet Lucy Jean, you seem to enjoy a level of “control”. That is just fine, though… my little girl. At 3, now 4… I know there is very little control you get to have, so I don’t mind finding those few areas you can have a little control over. You are already learning. The hardest area for this part of your personality is in friendship. It hurts you when your friends don’t do what you want. It is not anger… it is sadness. Like I said, you are so very sensitive. It’s O.K., honey. Mommy is right by your side. You’ll learn that when “B” doesn’t want to play on the teeter-totter, it’s not because she doesn’t like you… it’s because she wants to slide. It’s not personal, baby… it isn’t personal… 

***Parents of teens, I know you are DYING to tell me, “Girl… you are IN FOR IT!” I have a hunch… don’t leave me, friends. I am REALLY going to need you in approximately 7-9 years… and tomorrow***

Chocolate milk. You are a fiend for chocolate milk. *fist bump* That’s good stuff, sister. I am raising you right.

This dress… Dirty, clean, hot, cold… you love this dress and wear it ALL THE TIME:

I hate to think of the day you can’t wear it anymore. I remember the hippopotamus overalls I loved when I was a little girl. I was so sad when my mom told me I was too big. My little girl… I will be right by your side when your day comes. I’ll bring the chocolate milk. 

My darlin’. I know I do not mother you perfectly. I am impatient. I set expectations that are too high. I don’t manage my time well, and should read to you more. I will never tell you I was the perfect mother, but I will always insist I love you more that it will ever seem. My heart both leaps aches when I think about the blessings and joys your life has given mine. I do not deserve such a precious charge, but you are my little girl and I am going to do the best I can to be the mommy you deserve… the mommy you need.

I adore you for your persistence, your drive, your fire, your passion… even your angst! Your joy, your spunk, your silliness and incurable laugh are sunlight and and hope. I pray that in your life, the sunlight and hope will be your way. I pray your positive bent will curve your personality that direction as your grow. There will be pain. There will be sadness, but I pray in those times the sunlight residing in your heart will overtake and the woman you grow into will be grounded in the joy of this positively delightful little girl… Lucy Jean. I pray you embrace God and Jesus. I pray you discover the Jesus I fell in love with, and are able to trust in Him because He loves you… He loved you first. You don’t need to do a thing. 

Happy Birthday, my “baby”. I sometimes miss my “baby”, but I am overcome with joy as I watch who you are becoming. I am honored to be the one you call “Mama”. I am also tired for that very same reason! Oh how we laugh together:

Now, go, my little one. Explore. Have fun. Laugh. Love. Be careful. And if you need nail polish, markers or scissors… please… PUHLEEEESE…. ask Mama first…

P.S. Never forget your roots… Honey, it could be worse, or so I’ve heard…

**********

Keep up on the ridiculous, the insightful, the always digressive…

Get Jenny On The Spot by RSS

Get Jenny On the Spot by Email