Dear Charlotte,

Tomorrow you’ll wake up bright and early and suddenly you’ll be four.  I’m about to begin wrapping your birthday treasures and your daddy is anxious to put together your new bicycle.  I ask myself daily where the time has gone – when you went from being a tiny little being that spent hours staring at the sky to a feisty bundle of energy that explores the world the with charge of an army.

I remember bringing you home from the hospital.  My winter baby.  It just happened to be 80 degrees that day in December and all the clothes I packed for you made you the most overdressed baby in the hospital.  I remember nursing you to the glow of the Christmas tree and sending baby announcements that year instead of Christmas cards.

You have truly been a joy, baby girl – from the way you stroke my cheek when we snuggle on the couch to the way you sing in the car with the volume of a choir.  Your giggles and genuine smiles make the stress and frustrations of life melt away.  I am lucky to be your mother.  It wasn’t until you came along that I understood exactly what our family was missing.  You.

I love you, pumpkin.