Dear Lillie,
Having been the baby for 5 long years, I know it's sometimes so hard for you to relinquish your spot as the baby. I'm not blinded by this fact. I want nothing but sunshine and rainbows and unicorns drowning in glitter for you. I want you to know that you're my favorite daughter, not because you're my only daughter, but because you're my favorite daughter. My favorite Lillie. My favorite sweet girl. My favorite. My heart swells with pride when you get the chance to show off your genius. My brain explodes with love and light when the sparkle in your eyes blows up and the love you have for your brothers, Jesus and the extraordinary in life shines through. You are miraculous, talented, soft (even when you think you're hard), and the love of my life.
I know that sometimes I'm exhausted by the time your turn rolls around each night. I've seen the disappointment in your eyes and your smile sinks and I can hear it in your voice that once again I've failed you somehow. You don't have to say anything to break my heart. I want to be 110% available to you every time you need me, not just some of the times. I want to be able to fulfill your wishes for dance lessons, gymnastics, softball, violin tutors, acting classes, camps... But your mama is no millionaire and I can't fund things on hopes and dreams. I know when you're in a dark space because your room gets 100 times worse than mine, spilling out the door, down the stairs, across the dining room's craft corner, on the floors... your brain is showing. I want nothing more than to turn every light on in the house so you can see yourself under that sweet, sticky mess. I want to bring the mirror around to your face so you can see how beautiful and cherished you are. You're not broken. You're not destroyed. You are worthy and simply uniquely you.
I don't want to destroy all your quirks or silence your imagination. I want to muffle the darkness that creeps into your heart and steals your sanity and puts the hands of panic around your neck. I've seen them attack you and know what it's like because I've lived it. I've been there, sweet baby girl. I would never have wished these darkest parts of me on you. I don't want this moment in your life to dim your light. There's good reason why "This little light of mine," and "You are my sunshine" were my favorite songs to sing to you. I still remember tucking you and Logan into bed each night and singing (terribly) to you both. Each song was begged to be repeated again and again and again... and I obliged, croaking each note out softer and softer till one or both of you would turn towards the wall pulling your covers up over your heads. I can still remember your sweet baby voice singing made up silly songs and dressing up in ALL your dress up clothes, prancing around like a firefighter dinosaur princess clomping around in your brother's Paul Frank rain boots.
I know that this is your first year alone without Logan at school with you. I can't even imagine the anxiety bubbling inside knowing you're by yourself. But I can promise you this, sweet girl, this gives you the advantage of standing out and SHINING as the only sibling in the elementary school this year. Please don't spend your days worrying about how Lou is doing or whether Lo is making his way down the halls of middle school worried about you. Worry about just yourself this year even though you have zero to worry about. You're going to "WOW" the socks off all your teachers, this I know is true.
Love, your weird mother.
Having been the baby for 5 long years, I know it's sometimes so hard for you to relinquish your spot as the baby. I'm not blinded by this fact. I want nothing but sunshine and rainbows and unicorns drowning in glitter for you. I want you to know that you're my favorite daughter, not because you're my only daughter, but because you're my favorite daughter. My favorite Lillie. My favorite sweet girl. My favorite. My heart swells with pride when you get the chance to show off your genius. My brain explodes with love and light when the sparkle in your eyes blows up and the love you have for your brothers, Jesus and the extraordinary in life shines through. You are miraculous, talented, soft (even when you think you're hard), and the love of my life.
I know that sometimes I'm exhausted by the time your turn rolls around each night. I've seen the disappointment in your eyes and your smile sinks and I can hear it in your voice that once again I've failed you somehow. You don't have to say anything to break my heart. I want to be 110% available to you every time you need me, not just some of the times. I want to be able to fulfill your wishes for dance lessons, gymnastics, softball, violin tutors, acting classes, camps... But your mama is no millionaire and I can't fund things on hopes and dreams. I know when you're in a dark space because your room gets 100 times worse than mine, spilling out the door, down the stairs, across the dining room's craft corner, on the floors... your brain is showing. I want nothing more than to turn every light on in the house so you can see yourself under that sweet, sticky mess. I want to bring the mirror around to your face so you can see how beautiful and cherished you are. You're not broken. You're not destroyed. You are worthy and simply uniquely you.
I don't want to destroy all your quirks or silence your imagination. I want to muffle the darkness that creeps into your heart and steals your sanity and puts the hands of panic around your neck. I've seen them attack you and know what it's like because I've lived it. I've been there, sweet baby girl. I would never have wished these darkest parts of me on you. I don't want this moment in your life to dim your light. There's good reason why "This little light of mine," and "You are my sunshine" were my favorite songs to sing to you. I still remember tucking you and Logan into bed each night and singing (terribly) to you both. Each song was begged to be repeated again and again and again... and I obliged, croaking each note out softer and softer till one or both of you would turn towards the wall pulling your covers up over your heads. I can still remember your sweet baby voice singing made up silly songs and dressing up in ALL your dress up clothes, prancing around like a firefighter dinosaur princess clomping around in your brother's Paul Frank rain boots.
I know that this is your first year alone without Logan at school with you. I can't even imagine the anxiety bubbling inside knowing you're by yourself. But I can promise you this, sweet girl, this gives you the advantage of standing out and SHINING as the only sibling in the elementary school this year. Please don't spend your days worrying about how Lou is doing or whether Lo is making his way down the halls of middle school worried about you. Worry about just yourself this year even though you have zero to worry about. You're going to "WOW" the socks off all your teachers, this I know is true.
Love, your weird mother.
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