I have noticed a few things lately,
How your hand doesn’t stretch quite as high to meet mine.
That you don’t have to try as hard to keep pace with me as we walk.
You pick up a book and pretend to read on your own and it isn’t even upside down.
You wander a little farther, climb a little higher and pour your own milk without a puddle on the floor.
And I want you to know I am proud of you.
As much as I would like time to slow down, I am filled with pride at the little people you are becoming,
how you navigate the world, with and without me.
But I also want you to know that you can sit on my lap, ask for one more story, share my pillow and let me tie your shoes tighter.
I will cover you with kisses,
warm you with hugs
and always be here to listen,
no matter how big or small you are.
As you turn four this weekend, I will be the same mom to you I was when you were born, maybe even a tiny bit better. The intense love I had for you from the moment our eyes met will be the same whether you are 10, or 20, or 45.
I will hold your hand and kiss your cheek and tuck you into bed with whispers of tomorrow.
As long as you will let me.
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