Twelve

Dear Baby --

You may no longer qualify as my "baby", but you will always be so to me. No matter how old you grow, no matter how big you get. You will always be the person that grew underneath my heart; a part of me.

Today you turn twelve. Twelve years ago, your father and I cried with joy as you were born. Your grandparents all fought to be the first to hold you. We stared into your big blue eyes, and we all fell in love. Even though you're not a baby any more, we love you just as much today as we did back then. You are growing up so fast, right before my eyes, and I want to bottle you so that I can remember each day, each different you.

Even though you sometimes scoff at me as if to say, "Mom! Stop treating me like a little kid!," I try to give you room for hugs if you need them. I'll tell you a little secret -- I need them, too. I miss my little girl who used to crawl up on my lap for snuggles, but I really like the grown-up girl who wants me to teach her to cook, too.

This Christmas and birthday were hard for your dad and I. You're in that in-between phase, where you still like toys, but you're also growing out of them, too. You're a study in contrasts: the girl who asks for dolls AND high-heeled shoes. I know your parents seem like the uncoolest people, ever! but, cut us some slack. We've never had a 12-year old before, and babies don't come with owner's manuals. All you need to know is that we *do* love you, despite what you may think sometimes. And, no -- we don't wish you were a baby again. We love you just the way you are. And, we wouldn't change you for the world.

Happy birthday, baby. We love you.

Mama