Camden, I love your dimples and bright blue eyes, and how you are trying so hard to tie your own shoes and be such a good helper and remembering your school things in the morning. I love when you randomly come up and hug me. I love that you still ask me to play a game with you and then kick my butt in Wii bowling. I love that you want to sell your artwork. Who would you sell it to? I ask. To the people that walk past our house, you say.
Jacob, I love how you're turning into such a big person; being such a good friend and a good helper and a good student and always trying to be better and do better even though you already do so well. I love that you wrote me a letter thanking me for finding something you lost (again) and telling me that I was a rock star. I hope I can always be your rock star mom. I love that you were concerned about telling me that you want to play tackle football next year, with helmets and pads and a real jersey...oh how I've dreaded this day, because all I can think of is concussions and injuries and broken bones and broken hearts. But of course I'll let you play, and I hope that you won't fall in love with it.
Anna, I love your spunky nature; your streak of stubborn that borders on attitude with a snap of fingers but isn't quite yet an at.ti.tude! I love your eyes and your sudden passion for reading. I love when you help me fold clothes and make lunch and help put away clean dishes. You have power; real power, and we're trying to harness it for good and not evil, because I swear, if you turn into one of those evil girls who have all the power yet don't use it for doing good and being good; I will lock you in your room like Rapunzel and you'll have to wait for your prince to rescue you; after you turn good of course. And never ever stop picking flowers for me. I love them.
Katelyn, I love our mornings together. Our nature walks; our reading books; our coloring; you bossing me around. I love your facial expressions; the fact that you want to do everything by yourself even if you do put your pants on backwards, fine by me, you did it yourself and that saves me from having to do it!! I love your feisty spirit and your love for my music that is now our music, thank you for that. I love your Kool-Aid stained lips and your crazy, curly hair that is hard to contain.
I love my children.
aw what beautiful letters
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