This morning I took a good look at my kid this morning. She’s doing that growing up thing. Her friends are too.

It’s astounding to me that this tiny baby became this full human person in such a short period of time. She was brand new to our lives but then it was as though she’d always been there. Now she’s doing so many things by herself, and I can see her growing up more and more.

The kid is smart and strong and sassy. She leaves me in disbelief. She makes me angry and fills my heart. I don’t understand it all.

She’s a smartass and she’s stubborn, and she gets it all from me. And her daddy, but a lot of it from me.

She’s so much like me that I worry about her. She will have her struggles, and it’s my job to make sure she understand that we will always love her and all the things she feels are wrong will make her a better adult.

I am so looking forward to seeing what kind of grown up she becomes but I want to keep her little forever. I want to be allowed to cuddle her, kiss her goodnight, read her a story, sit with her and craft or colour. I want her to want me around. I want her to want to tell me everything. (Though she talks so much I don’t anticipate a day when she doesn’t tell me everything).

I want her to laugh with me. I want her to stay weird.

I want her to keep believing that she can do anything. I want her to be anything and everything she wants to be. I want to track her dreams and cry when she achieves them. I want to spend the next fifty years being totally blown away by her and fascinated by her, the same way I have been for the past seven, not quite eight.

I want to spend the next fifty years showing her how her just being has changed me. I want to demonstrate that it’s never too late to achieve change or to dream big.

“Don’t waste any time trying to be like anybody but yourself. The things that make you strange are the things that make you powerful,” Ben Platt.

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