Seven With Love

Dear Pink,

It’s been a week since you turned seven, and I’m finally delivering the gift I promised you. Unlike your friend’s mom, I don’t know how to make you cool clothes or jewelry. But words? I can do words. So I told you I would write you a birthday letter. You loved the idea. But the truth is, I’ve been struggling to capture my adoration for you.

That probably seems kind of silly since there’s no stopping the two of us from gushing about how much we love each other on any given day. You know I love you sooooo much. (And I know you love me sooooo much.) You know you are my sunshine. (And I know I am your sunshine.) You know I just want to hug you and cuddle up. (And I know you just want to hug me and cuddle up.) You know you are my sweet, little love. (And I’m your sweet, mama love.)

But you see, it turns out that it’s hard to describe what you love about a person when it’s so much more than a list of character traits. You, my precious girl, are a feeling. You are delightful.

Delightful. It’s one of those words I never really gave much attention to until you came along. I always thought of “delightful” as a pleasantly passing moment — like a summer breeze. Not something that sticks. But you proved me wrong, and somehow I don’t find that the least bit infuriating like I typically would. That, right there, is proof of your positive grip on everyone around you.

From the moment you wake up, your heart turns on and your smile lights up. There’s not a question in your mind that each day will be great — and that you will be great in it. You look at the world and see rainbows and hearts and butterflies and puppies and music. You make up songs about everything from best-day-ever moments to the delicious asparagus on your dinner plate. Even the simplest things deserve celebration in your mind.

You spread your joy by drawing colorful pictures, writing thoughtful stories/songs/poems (my favorite of which includes the lines, “I don’t like fighting with my brothers, I don’t like eating celery…”), reading/storytelling with tremendous expression, and choreographing fun dances and shows.

You create inspirational messages and hang them in your room with pride. Things like, “Live with love. Laugh with love. Play with love.” And, “I am loveful for my family. I am loveful for my home.” I’m pretty sure you don’t need these reminders, they’re simply a part of you, but as a sometimes-too-grumpy mom, I do. And they lift me up each and every time I see them.

When people ask you about yourself, you have a lot to say because you see yourself as being the multi-talented girl you are. Not only are you a first grader who loves to read chapter books and sing along to really loud music, you’re quick to tell people you’re an athlete. You love that word. You’re a swimmer. A dancer. A volleyball player. You set specific goals for yourself and constantly work to get better — to get stronger. You’re also a proud little sister, a friend to everyone, a great hugger (especially when you see I’m sad), and the most forgiving person I’ve ever known.

One of your big kid friends was at our house the other day and he said, “Pink, I think you’re going to be a star when you grow up.” Without hesitation you said, “Nope. I’m going to be a teacher.” I can’t help but think both of you were right. Because wherever you go, you are a star — your light shines so bright. And I also know that you’ll do whatever your heart desires. Given the amount of time you spend teaching your dolls, I’m thinking there are kids yet to be born whose favorite teacher is already in training. And how lucky they’ll be…especially come story time.

Though The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is one of your favorite books, I can’t help but think you’re the anti-Grinch. It’s like you were born with a heart two sizes too big, so all that extra love and feeling overflows out of you into the world. Those of us around you get to soak it up to fill in our own missing pieces. And that’s why simply being you is a gift.

Oh, my delightful girl, I am loveful for you. So very loveful.

Happy 7th Birthday!

Love,

Mom