Dear (insert pet name for child),

Dear Lil Rambler/Mini-me/Tornado in a box/Bad-ass on three wheels this side of the Pacific,

Today is just an ordinary day. Not your birthday, not an anniversary of your first poop, or haircut (we've yet to experience that). We aren't going to the doctors for your check up (that's soon though so be ready)

It's just another normal day.

With you.

But before you came into my life...

I slept in late, I went out late. I complained I always felt I didn't get enough sleep. (I scoff at that old me, she doesn't EVEN know!.)

The last kid show that was shoved down my throat was Barney. (and he will NEVER come into this house EVER, thank your sweet Aunty LBS for that).

I left on a whim if I felt like it to meet friends, your Nana for lunch, or if work called. (We have whim moments, but it's more like give me an hour to get us both decent for public and we'll call you from the road)

My clothes were stained with my own crumbs of food loving pig out eating with Aunty BFF. (not babykidtoddler throw up or little chocolate hand prints)

I was a last minute packer. And the constant forgetter of things at home. (But has mastered the gazillion days before packing. Baby Tylenol, desitin, diapers for days, extra clothes, the spare sippy cups, cookies, wipes, the list goes on and on)

Your father and I were (key word, were) movie junkies. We'd be the first in line on premiere night. (We don't even know what's in, or who's the new up and coming star....well actually Hanna Montana is pretty popular and didn't the Cheetah girls just come out with their new movie?)

The living room would look exactly how I left it when I left for work (and now while cleaning the bedroom after the living room, it's like a hurricane hit it. You don't mess around, and I've clocked you at mach 10)

I drank coffee because it was "cool" (feeling of acceptance in society, not temperature) and tasted real good with dessert. (It serves a more practical and necessary reason...keeps mommy up for her other job. The one that pays for the bills.)

I had fears of doctors and rarely saw them if I could help it. (And now every doctor possible needed for us are on speed dial, and mommy had to Mommy up (man up) like your nice Dr. Pediatrician told me too when we did your first shots.)

I realize that I CAN function with only 4 hours of sleep. I'm a little slow going at first but mommy kicks off auto pilot once she/me realizes she's alive. (eh, who needs sleep ANYWAY. Sleep is for wussies, but if you want a nap right now, Mommy's down.)

You help me see the world with a different set of eyes, hear things I never stopped to listen to, and to really smell the flowers.

You help remind me how fun bubble baths are.

Your infectious giggle when the baby powder comes out puts a smile on my heart.

Your excited body squirm and frantic sureness that I see the passing helicopters when they fly pass our house, always makes me chuckle.

You helped mommy become a masterbaby language decoder...well actually Aunty FLS has the corner on that one....and how adding Y to the end-y of-y everything-y seems more fun-y :)

Watching strangers smiling at you and waving hello because you've shot them your award winning smile with the cutest Hewo ever makes mommy proud.

You are my first and last thought of my long winded days, my sweet, and Mommy smiles happy thoughts, tired, but happy, when her head hits the pillow.

YOU are the most unselfish part of my life, in a life I didn't know how to be.

I thank God everyday I am blessed with you.