Another letter to my 6 year-old
Last weekend my middle daughter turned 6. It’s hard to comprehend how quickly time passes when I realize it has already been 2 years since I wrote about Jaslyn turning 6.
Maleah, my boo. You are so precious to me. I adore how your favorite princess is Mulan, and how you want to be like her. You are. You are strong. You are different, and you have a wild and pure heart. Also, you often spill your milk and chew with your mouth open and sometimes these things frustrate daddy and he forgets how much he adores you. I’m sorry for that, truly I am. I’m so scared that in my desire for order I have crushed your spirit. I notice how timid and unsure you can be at times and I wonder how I’ve contributed to that.
Every time you ask “am I beautiful,” “am I smart,” “do you like my dress,” “do you like my hair,” I always reassure you that of course you are. I love that you still ask me these things. I love how you are so funny. You make me laugh and you love to be silly. You sing at the top of your voice the words to your favorite worship song, “I’m in a war, and not with a squirrel” (*and not with this world). And I love our daddy daughter dates and that you still get so excited for them and want to fill the evening with everything fun you can think of.
You always have a drink in your hand (so you’re a lot like your dad) and you know very certainly what you like and don’t like. And most certainly you do not like carrot juice or brussel sprouts.
I love that when you grow up you want to be a part-time doctor, a part-time fashion designer/artist and a full-time mommy. I love that you made a dress for your barbie out of toilet paper, tape and a red marker. I love that you decorate your hair more uniquely than any 6 year old I’ve known. I love how you love to swing so high and how only 12months ago you were so scared of the swings.
You have a vivid imagination. There are lots of unicorns and ponies in your world, and you keep one there just for me. You invented butterfly hugs and you offer me them whenever I most need one.
I’m so proud of you for accepting Jesus into your heart this year, and I love how you did it in a way that is uniquely you. From the back seat of my car while we were parked at the ATM you told me how you talked to Jesus all the time in your head. I asked if it would be okay if we prayed out loud together and to invite Jesus into your heart, and you gladly prayed with me. To you, you already knew Him and praying together was just something you did because I asked. And I love how your favorite prayer is that we’d have “fun”.
My boo, I love you more than you could possibly understand and perhaps more than you believe.