A letter to Navy

You are already half way through Kindergarten.

I wanted to do this on your first day of school,

but life is crazy,

and it's taken me this long to finally sit down and write this to you.

Where do I even start?
How do I even begin to tell you how much I love you?
How amazing I think you are?

How you are kind, and smart, and so talented?

Because I do love you.

Oh my gosh do I love you!

And you ARE amazing.

And you ARE kind,

and smart,

and gosh dang- you are so talented.

When I first learned about you,

I was so excited for Camden to have a sibling,

and for Dad to have a child of his own.

When we found out you were a girl,

I was over the moon.

We knew right away we would name you Navy.

I had the name picked out since I was 15.

I bought adorable outfits with matching bows,

and I could not wait to meet you.

And on December 7th, 2016,

you were born and I heard your sweet cry and kissed your sweet cheeks,

and I thought my heart would burst.

Tears rolled down my face as I smelled you and looked at you for the first time.

I had a daughter.

You were mine.

And we were all completely smitten with you from the very beginning.

You were a happy baby and totally content with life.

I loved dressing you up and got your ears pierced as soon as I could.

As you grew, 

you maintained your happy nature but completely soaked in everything around you.

You knew numbers,

and letters,

and colors,

and shapes,

before you were even 2.

I didn't teach you that.

Somehow you learned it on your own.

You started talking then too,

and it was like your vocabulary exploded over night.

You were speaking in full sentences,

and I could have pretty grown up conversations with you just after your second birthday.

You were so fun at that age.

You would say and do such funny things.

Sometimes,

after bedtime,

me and Dad would hear you playing in your room,

knowing you weren't asleep.

We would let you come in to our room and hang out with us because you made us laugh.

We loved those nights with you,

and Dad especially treasures those memories.

If I could have frozen you at that age forever,

I would have.

This was also when you stopped napping.

But you were never grumpy,

and I loved having you as my little buddy 

as we ran errands together.

I loved spending my days with you.

When Nana got cancer,

you were such a bright spot in my life when things were so hard and sad.

You made me happy,

and  I was so grateful to be your mom then.

When you started dance just before you turned 3,

you immediately loved it.

And you were already such a natural at it.

I loved watching you in class.

And YOU loved watching you in class,

inching your way closer and closer to the mirror throughout class.

You became a big sister when you were three and a half,

and the bond you and Lily have is something YOU have created.

You have loved her and included her ever since the beginning.

You are kind to her.

You teach her.

You help her.

You treat her like a friend.

And I am so proud of you for that.

She copies everything you do,

and you are such a great example.

I hope as she continues to follow in your footsteps that you always model what you do now:

Kindness.

As you have grown,

and have ventured into different activities,

you have shown dedication.

You put your mind to something,

and you work at it until you get it.

You persevere.

In dance,

in gymnastics,

in school

and in music.

You have talent in these areas yes,

but you work hard at them,

and I love to see you at work.

You taught yourself to read,

to tie your shoes,

to add and subtract.

And you never want help with things.

When you were just 2, you would say,

"No, NeNe do it."

So you would practice buckling your own carseat,

or putting on your own clothes,

or writing your name,

until you could finally do it all by yourself.

Even now,

when you come across a big word reading,

you don't want help until you've sounded it out yourself first.

When you have to do math problems on the computer for homework,

you use paper to cover up the pictures because you don't want to use them to help you solve it.

When you are practicing piano, 

or teaching yourself by ear a new song, 

you don't want me to show you which note comes next.

You'll do it again and again until you get it right.

Your drive to learn and accomplish and achieve astounds me.

And the brain you've been given will do amazing things if you continue to pursue your passions and work hard as you grow.

Your teachers can hardly keep up with you!!

Navy,

you are a great friend.

I hope you never lose this quality.

A couple months ago,

I went to your school for an awards assembly.

Before walking in to the gym,

another mom stopped me and asked if I was your mom.

I told her yes.

She said,

"Oh my daughter loves Navy.

She says Navy is the only girl in the whole class that is never mean to her."

I was so proud of you.

That meant more to me than the awards you were getting that day.

Those that know you, 

love you.

And even though I hate that you are growing up,

I love the person you are already becoming.

You are a natural born leader. 

You command attention without even realizing it sometimes.

(Though sometimes, you really do COMMAND our attention-

especially when you want us to watch you do something)

You are learning at lightening speed,

and I can't wait to see what you do with all of it.

I can't wait to watch you develop your talents.

I have been your mom for 6 years now,

and I could never imagine my life without you in it.

I am so grateful Heavenly Father blessed me with you,

and I absolutely love being your mom.

You make me proud every day,

and I think you are a pretty incredible person.

Don't ever lose your confidence.

Your ability to make friends.

Don't lose your happy spirit,

or your spunk,

or your tenacity.

Keep your dedication to the things you love.

Explore new things and develop your talents.

Stay true to who you are,

stay kind,

keep your passion, 

and your bravery.

Navy Lee,

I love you so.

And I cannot wait to see who you become.

Love,

Mom