Yesterday… yesterday my baby turned 13. This amazing, stubborn, creative, kind, hilarious, silly, clever, empathetic, beautiful young woman is has graced us with her presence for 13 years.
Yesterday… yesterday, I brought her home from the hospital with no idea what I was getting myself into. I was happy, grateful, scared, and deeply in love. I made up little songs where she was cast as a baby cat, or a bean, or a shooby-doo and I brought her everywhere. She slept wherever I put her, she demanded her daddy for bath and bedtime, she sat rapt through her first movie theatre film at 4 months old, she hated nightlights and refused to be cuddled to sleep.
Yesterday… yesterday, she was named and dreamed of years before she was a real, human girl. She surpasses my dreams every day, and as she moves further into her individuality, I cling to any moments of little girlhood and find myself watching her in awe when she is busy being herself.
Yesterday… yesterday, our family and friends turned up in the winter of the COVID-19 pandemic to bring this little, beautiful brilliant young woman joy on her most recent milestone. My dream girl. My magical, amazing, strong, intuitive dream girl is 13 now.
But yesterday? Yesterday she was just a little angel baby girl.