Labor Day

Dear Peach:
Tomorrow you will be 12 years old. How we got here so quickly, I have no idea, but you will forever be the Buddah Baby of your infancy to me. The baby with the quick smile, the unwillingness to sleep except in my arms, the silly little girl with a Cheerio stuck to your chin, or the toddler who wouldn't go to sleep until I sang at least 5 songs to you.

You've grown up so much this year - suddenly, you're nearly as tall as I am, you've developed a social poise that I didn't know you had and you've discovered boys. You've become someone whom I would choose as a friend, someone I respect and admire. You've worked really hard in school, both at academics and friendships.

While I know you want a cell phone, makeup and a ride to the mall, just know that you will always be my baby. My firstborn. The one we made all the mistakes with, the first miracle of our marriage. The one who had enough baby clothes for 10 babies, the one who scared us more than anything we had ever encountered.

Now you're nearly a teenager! My mama-bear instincts are still just as strong, but I trust you and your newborn judgement. You're smart, savvy and not at all afraid to go out into the world and make your place in it.

I love you more than anything else in the world. I would do anything for you if I thought it would make your life better.

And sometimes I like to go in your room at night to see you sleep, sweet as the baby who came home from the hospital with the bluest eyes and the sweetest smell..... and then I think to myself "she really needs to cut those bangs....."

Love, Mom.