Thursday, August 24, 2006
My beautiful Lauren,
In the 1440 days we've shared together, my daughter, you have taught me more about determination than any other person in my life. I can be strong-willed and stubborn, yet it pales in comparison to you digging your heels in and insisting you're right. You're usually not, little girl, but some day you will be and I hope you know that same conviction then.
Today when we arrived at daycare, 4 of your friends were playing house. Linnea invited you to play while the others feigned sleep, and told you you had to be the baby. You tossed your head back, stamped your feet, and replied tersely, "Gawd, I am SO sick of this. I do not want to be the baby. Some one else has to be the baby."
How I admire you. When I was a little girl, I would've swallowed that lump in my throat and said, "OK, Linnea."
You're starting to piece together this crazy world we live in. That people and things die hasn't eluded you. When we were so worried about telling you about those little tetra in your fish tank that just didn't make the transition from the fish store to your little 10 gallon tank, you merely said, "Fish die". Today you asked me about my grandfather, and I told you he died when I was a teenager of lung cancer, you replied, "My Grandpa Arthur died too".
You're an amazing person, Lauren. I love you.