Dear Addie and Ingrid
Adair Lynden and Ingrid Grey,
Today, I want to tell you and the world how much I love you. I often try to capture how I feel about you in words, but I’m always left feeling incomplete or unable. I know you know that I love you. You hear me say it forty million times a day. But I’m sure you can’t grasp the fullness of it just yet. So I will tell you over and over again until you understand. Which probably won’t be until you are old and grown and have children of your own. I will tell you with my words and my actions and my whole life.
Addie – you are brave and you are strong and you are my adventure girl. You have the biggest heart and you are so funny. I love that you literally try to touch the moon and the stars each night. I can’t help but think that this is a sweet little metaphor for the greatness you will achieve in your life. Even when I tell you “no” when you ask me to eat crackers for the millionth time in a row, I love you from the depth of my heart. Your presence in my life, in this world, has made me full. I thank God that I get to love you and be with you each and every day.
Ingrid – you are a wonder, my sweet baby. Your entrance into this world proved to me that the heart has no limit on love. You are suddenly long and inquisitive and knowing. The girl who was once peanut-sized, laying across my lap is now hanging off the rocker, getting into everything, and becoming so much fun. Your tiny, seemingly insignificant quirks are my favorite things – the way you clap or say “hi” to your daddy, the way you mimic your sister’s sound effects during lunchtime, the way you always chuckle when I pick you up from your crib. You are my baby, my hunny bunny, and I love you deeply.
This day and every day,