Today in the car on the way to daycare my daughter called out to me: “Mommy, look at me!” and when I turned around “Mommy, I’m beautiful.”
Yes you are baby. With your messy hair and yogurt on your face.
You have a wonderful smile and gorgeous eyes. You have strong legs and great hair. You have a wonderfully ticklish belly and good teeth.
You are beautiful and strong and smart and curious and all around amazing. I’m very glad you know you’re beautiful, but I want you to remember just how smart you are too. You can count to twelve (even though sometimes you skip four and five), you can say your ABCs and you’re getting better at remembering colours. You can sit down and figure things out and I love watching you. You have so many words now and I like talking to you about books and daycare and your friends (stuffed animals).
Lately you’ve been saying that you’re a princess, or sometimes you’re a baby – and that one time you declared that you were the dog – and I’m glad you are so full of imagination and that you think so highly of yourself, but a princess is not the be all-end all my dear.
If you’re a princess because you’re lovely and special, that’s okay. If you’re a princess because you have silver sparkly shoes, well, those are pretty cool shoes. But in the end, baby girl, you are so much more that what people think of as princess and I never want you to think otherwise.
I’ll dress you in pink and tutus and silver sparkly shoes if that’s what you ask for, but I will never call you princess.