Dear Maddie

It has been a while since I've actually written to you. I suppose it's because we converse daily. You really are the best thing in the world. I don't think there is any other way to explain it, and even then, it doesn't do it justice.

You have a gorgeous bed. You call it your garden bed. You wish you could have a princess bed. I can honestly say I don't remember the last time you slept in your garden bed. See, I'm thinking, and no...I can not remember. I have mixed opinions. My initial opinion is the 'I don't give a damn' opinion. I want to cuddle with you, even when your head ends up in my ribs, as it did on several occasions last night. I want you to happily fall asleep. I want you comforted. And, honestly, you do the exact same for me. I also consider that I do not have a handsome boy in my bed, so now is a good time for you and me to cuddle. My 'crucify myself' opinion wonders if I have developed bad habits. It can be tough whenever I do need you to nap in your bed, if, for instance, I'm doing laundry and my bed is sheet-less because I'm washing sheets or covered in your small t-shirts and shorts and skorts and little knickers. So I wonder about those things. You have become accustomed to falling asleep while watching the digital frame show images of you and me. There are baby pictures and pictures of fun events and silly pictures and sweet pictures. Now you need to have this on before I leave the room to let you rest. So it's the closet door cracked with the light on, the digital frame, millions of kisses, secrets, nose kisses, sweet dreams, love you, kiss from the doorway, and a ha!!!

You're really tall. They told me when you had your first few doctors appointments that you were going to be a very tall girl. And I believed them. But you're seriously growing too fast. You are all legs. So the clothes fit, right? Like around your waist. But then you have these legs that make everything look much too small! You want to wear dresses because you want to be a princess. I want you to wear dresses because you look like a skank in shorts. Of course, you do a poor job of sitting like a lady some days. And that frustrates me. You seriously need to listen to me. How many times do mothers ask their children to listen? I'm telling you to listen to me all of the time. Just listen to me. Sit like a lady. Chew with your mouth closed. And cover your mouth when you sneeze.

Seriously.

You make funny faces. You say funny things. The other night, recently, most nights, I've been bathing you then taking a shower so that I don't have to worry about it later. So you get dressed and brush, MI Paste and floss your teeth because we are quite OCD about our teeth while I take a shower. So you tell me the other night as I'm climbing into the shower, 'mommy, you have big, giant boobies!' Tonight you tell me, 'mommy, one day I'm gonna be a big girl, and I'm gonna be gorgeous...just like you!'

Hang on. I'm trying to stop the tears.

Carrie told me a couple of days ago, 'you know, right now, you're God in her eyes.' I don't think it's a god thing. I think it's an admiration thing. Because I've never had anyone love me like you love me. Obviously, I've never loved how I love you. I know you're going to change, you will hate me. I promise, you'll hate me. But you make my world go round.

I frowned the other day when I was told that I wasn't someones reason for living. No, see, boys, they just don't get it. And that's fine. I don't want to be someones reason for living. But you really are my reason for existing. That's what the boys don't get, what it feels like to have someone who is their reason for living.

You don't love me when I'm at work. You love me when I'm with you. So I'm gonna go crawl into bed with you so I can be with you and I'm gonna cuddle with you and I'm gonna give you kisses because I love you all of the time.

love, mommy