Dear Miss Esmé,
You are beautiful.
You also crack me up. Yesterday morning, eyes still bleary with sleep, you announced, “I have a plan!”
Yes, the world had better stop and take note, because Miss Esmé has a plan.
And yes, I love how you wake up, ready to take on the world. At your very own dilly-dallying pace.
Of course, I stop what I’m doing to listen most attentively.
“My plan includes makeup to make my eyes beautiful. And my lips beautiful. And I want to dye my hair pink.”
“I see,” I respond. “Just a couple of problems with that plan.”
“First, you are already beautiful. Your eyes are already beautiful,” I say as I wipe the sleep out of them. “And second, NO makeup until you are at least 10 years old (and hopefully you will forget we even had this conversation by then, so we can postpone it another 10 years).”
“Plus, we don’t have any pink dye in our house. Town is a half-hour away, and we’re not going to make a special trip just to get pink dye. And that settles that.”
And yes, your eyes welled with tears as you mourned the loss of your beauty dreams. Heartless mamma I am.
Fortunately for me, this morning your plan was to be a baby hound dog. And tomorrow it will probably be a scarecrow. I don’t think I could handle beauty queen drama every day.
Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. You are altogether beautiful, my love.
I love you, my amazing, beautiful baby girl!
Each birthday, I write a letter to my baby girl. This year, the year of the amazing 5-year-mark, I’ll be working from A to Z.