Dear Goose,
Today was your birthday. Seven Years Old. You are getting to be such a big girl, and you are such a great help to me. I really appreciate who you are and I so enjoy who you are becoming!
You are a funny one, sweet girl! Yesterday we went shopping for some Sunday shoes, and you admired a little purse on the rack. I said, “Oh, isn’t that so cute?” and you told me: “Yeah, but it’d be so much cuter if I owned it.”
You now have new shoes, and a new purse.
As we climbed into the car, you confessed to me that you were trying to not make me feel bad because you liked the purse. You didn’t want me to feel bad because it wasn’t yours (yet).
And today I was complimenting you on your beautiful hair, and you expressed a slight discomfort that your hair is always so beautiful. Later I told you, “Olivia, you are the cutest girl in all the world! It’s just not fair to all the other girls!”
And you said, “I know mom, that’s what I was telling you.”
And I said “what? That you’re the cutest?”
And you said “no! That it’s not fair to all the other girls.”
These stories are funny, they make for great anecdotes, but the truth is they reveal a deeper side of your heart – the sensitive side that is always thinking of others.
You never want to hurt other people’s feelings, you always want to make sure those around you feel more confident in themselves in your presence.
I love that about you. But it’s like I told you last night, after the shoes – it’s your job to tell people the truth about how you feel, to express to them your honest feelings and opinions. It is other people’s (especially mine) responsibility to manage their feelings after the fact.
Oh how I love you, I love your spirit, your kindness and your generosity. You are beloved by all who know you, and I hope that love will lift you and sustain you through out your mortal life. Happy Birthday, my big seven year old!
I love you forever, Baby Sunshine.
xoxo,
Mamma