Happy Birthday Erica

My daughter. My precious little baby girl is so grown up now. I can't believe my eyes when I see her. I spent so much time, when she was just a tiny little thing, wondering, daydreaming about what she might become. What would she look like? What would her personality be like? I have these random moments burned into my memory of her as a baby, as a child. Not the highlight moments, like birthdays or holidays. I have pictures of those. But unremarkable every day moments that fly by all too fast. How I used to watch her sleep those first few months of her life, so scared something might happen. Was she still breathing? Sometimes I would run my finger lightly over her lips if she was sleeping so soundly that I couldn't see her chest rise and fall. She would pucker her lips like a kiss without waking up. It reassured me that she was doing fine. I used to rock her to sleep, holding her tiny little body wrapped in a baby blanket and singing a little song I made up just for her bedtime. It was a simple little rhyme that I can still remember. It worked as far as lulling her to sleep. Unless she was smart enough at a few months old to realize that if she would pretend to be asleep I would stop singing. LOL. I don't have the best voice, and noone would dispute that.

There was Erica at 3 years old, pouting over a pink little sundress that she wanted at the mall. "But I'm a pretty girl!", she argued when I tried to put it back on the rack because she had enough sundresses for the summer. She stamped her little foot for emphasis. "And pretty girls NEED pretty clothes!" She got the dress. How can you argue with that kind of logic? Erica at 4 or 5 years old. We were at the county fair. Erica was wearing a pair of little blue jeans and a pink sweater. Always pink. She only wanted to wear pink. Her hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail. She had gone into one of those giant blow up jumping castles. And I watched her, her face was radiant with absolute glee. Jumping, leaping, loving every minute of it. She was totally into My Little Ponies back then. Never barbies....just the ponies. I remember thinking to myself right then that she was MY precious little pony with her ponytail bobbing up and down. One moment frozen in time. Strange the random things we remember.

But now she is grown up, and making a life all her own. She is more than I hoped she would be. She exceeded all of my daydreams. So smart, so ambitious, so independent.
Where did all of that come from? Certainly not from me. LOL. But its who and what she is, however it happened. And I am proud of her, in awe of her. She will have her doctorate in the near future. My very own Dr. Baby, PhD. And still....no matter how old she is or how many degrees she attains, or whatever micro-biology miracles she achieves....she will ALWAYS be my precious little pony. Happy Birthday beloved daughter of mine. May all of your hopes and dreams be fulfilled. You deserve nothing less. We love you. Happy Birthday!