Dear Charlotte,

Tonight I went into your room after you fell asleep like I’ve done for five years. I giggle at your funny position sprawled across the bed and tuck you back in. I smell your head and kiss your cheek. It’s so different now. I maneuver your lanky limbs and untangle your long, long hair instead of giving you a pacifier and adjusting your swaddle. You smell like “Frozen” shampoo and crayons instead of a baby. You’re not a baby.

You’re five years-old today. Five years. Half a decade. I shake my head as I type it. It’s a parent cliche to say “Where has the time gone?!” But, sweet girl “Where has the time gone?!”

I’ll tell you where it has gone. It’s gone to 1,825 days of watching you, teaching you and believing in you. It’s been 260 weeks of Daddy and I marveling at how much you’ve learned, worrying over your mistakes and praying for your strength. We spent 60 months devoting ourselves to your life because you make ours so amazing.

Daddy and I were so proud of you on Sunday when friends came to celebrate you and Henry’s birthdays. You made sure to introduce anyone who didn’t know each other. You showed your friends around and thanked your relatives for gifts. You make us laugh with your imaginative stories and inquisitive nature. You are expressive and creative. You love to write letters and spell out words. You want to know Spanish words and basic math. You amazed us on your soccer team this fall. You learned to play with your team and run hard. You sang the loudest among the kids in the preschool choir at church last week. The choir teachers said they were glad you came because you always sing loud. I love and admire your fearlessness. I’ve been singing the song you sang, “God made me so I can do these things! That is why I sing!”

You make me feel like I can do anything when you say, “You’re the best Mommy in the world!” I feel like God made me to be your mother. It is the honor of my life to be a mama to you and Henry. Thank you for these last five years. I wish you at least 95 more.

Happy Birthday. I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama

Dear Charlotte & Henry,

I didn’t write you individual letters at your half-birthdays back in May like I meant to. I haven’t written much lately, actually. I think it’s because I’ve just been with you and enjoyed you. Especially this summer. Summer 2015 has been so much fun for us and I love that we still have so many weeks left together before the fall.

This weekend a friend took this picture of me.

This isn’t a picture I would normally post. I’m not as posed and camera-ready as you, no doubt, have learned I like to be. It’s a vain flaw I hope to not pass down to you. I want both of you to always know there is no “bad picture” of either of you. You are beautiful at all angles.

I think I like this picture because it reflects how I feel at this point in my life. When the shutter snapped I had just been talking to both of you. Looking at you, and discussing you with my friend. My eyes are a little tired, but happy. That is me. That is your mother at nearly 34 years-old, parenting a 4 1/2-year-old and a 1 1/2-year old. My face shows our life right now. Every day I wake up to wrangle, snuggle, feed, kiss, play with you and carry you.

Charlotte, I can’t tell you how proud Daddy and I are when we see you excited and brave as you jump into the pool. You’ve learned so much at your swimming lessons this summer. Your stories, your games and songs make everyday exciting and fun. You are so smart and capable, now! I’m constantly amazed with the newest thing you’ve learned. You make us laugh all the time. I’m sorry I laugh so loud that you have to cover your ears. I can’t help it! You’re funny! Your hair is so long and beautiful! It falls in ringlets down your back. It’s the hair of dreams. It’s amazing.

Henry, you make us smile with your sweet looks, your crazy run and silly antics. Your personality grows every day. Your love of trains, cars and trucks is intense. You run so fast I can’t catch you some times. Every day you have a new like or dislike. You’re talking so much at 20 months-old! Your favorite things to say are “Mama,” “car,” “choo-choo,” “Daddy,” “Jinjin,” (Ginger) and “Shaya.” (Charlotte) You have your own word for your favorite food, “Ahbees.” Those are berries. You would eat your weight in fruit if I let you, son. We don’t even say “berries” anymore. Only “Ahbees.” You had your first real haircut from a stylist. You look more like a little boy than a baby, but your beautiful curls remain.

The biggest thing I’ve seen this summer is the relationship between the two of you grow. Sigh. There are moments of sibling rivalry. Henry, stop pulling her hair. Charlotte, stop antagonizing and taunting him. But, other times. Maybe when you think Daddy and I aren’t looking, you play together. Charlotte, at a play group the other day you saw another little boy take Henry’s car. You patiently followed him until he set down the truck. You quickly picked it up and gave it back to your brother. You didn’t like another kid having it. Henry, you found your sister’s hair bow on the floor the other day. You went up and pressed it to her head. You know it’s hers.

Mostly, this photo of me shows my hope for all that is to come and my satisfaction and joy with the now. Thank you for letting me be your mother. It is the privilege of my life.

I love you my darling, darling girl and my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,

Mama

Dear Charlotte,

I was looking at you in the rear view mirror in the car the other day and I couldn’t figure out what was different about you. Then I figured it out. You look like a 4-year-old.

Your hair falls in long waves. Many pieces are in spirals, making for lovely, chaotic curls that catch the air when you run. You run on legs that are getting longer. The smile on your face is the same as it has always been. It’s the smile you show when you see any number of things that you love.

You love preschool, your friends, your toys, making up stories, watching movies, swimming, dance class, gymnastics, reading books, listening to Disney Princess songs, learning about outer space and the earth, singing, dancing, climbing trees, playing on the playground, drawing, coloring, painting and talking. Phew! You are a busy kid. We wouldn’t have it any other way. You are the infectious energy that keeps our family going.

3 was an interesting age for you, Charlotte. As wonderful as you are, you had your moments of being 3, no doubt. Daddy and I are wondering what 4 will bring.

I’m excited to take you for your check-up at the doctor. You are small compared to many of your peers. You are slender and short. You have small feet. I call you “Senorita Tiny Feet.” Many friends your age wear shoes a whole size bigger. You don’t know that. I try not to compare you to your friends physically. I’m just making note of it here for when you read this one day. You may want to know this one day, I dunno.

Overall, you are a great eater who loves vegetables. You still eat lots of different foods, but recently have decided to be pickier. We’re hoping it’s a phase. You go to bed about 8:30 pm and get up around 7:00 pm. You still take a nap about 4 days a week. Not bad for a 4-year-old.

You’re a person with ideas and opinions. You are learning so much, it’s amazing. Everyday you surprise us with something new. I’ve said it before, it is the honor of my life to be your mother. Not a day goes by that I don’t marvel at how smart, funny and beautiful you are.

I have a good feeling about 4. I’m excited for what’s next. Happy Birthday. I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama

“The prime purpose of being four is to enjoy being four — of secondary importance is to prepare for being five.” ~Jim Trelease

Dear Charlotte,

I’ve been writing all these monthly letters to your baby brother in his first year, just as I did for you, but it has not escaped me that you are 3 1/2 today. I’ll be interested to hear what you think of these letters one day. After your first year, I have written to you on your birthdays and half birthdays. Maybe I’ll bind them all in a book, a book for you and a book for Henry with his letters.

I feel like we just celebrated your third birthday and waited patiently for Henry to arrive four days later. That was six months ago. You’ve been our spirited 3-year-old, the light in our house and the energy in our lives. We thrive on your enthusiasm.

Charlotte, you have embraced change in these six months. You became a big sister and we became a family of four. You left your daycare to go to part-time preschool. You started gymnastics. You spend more time with me each day and it is amazing!

Some of my favorite things about you continue. You love to learn and read books. Your vivid imagination means you have a tale of your “Imagination Friends” everyday. Tiki, Choo Choo and Maddie fill your mind with endless adventures that help you make sense of your world. You have been really excited about science and geography lately. You will say, “Mama, let’s talk about the sun and the earth!” We got books about the planets from the library for you. You built a garden with Daddy and you always want to check your plants. You are forcing me to brush up on my Spanish as you ask what many words are in Spanish and I honestly do not remember. Mamá no te da vergüenza! (I must confess to you I used an online translator for that one.)

Princesses are still your favorite thing. We watch you in different princess dress-up clothes each day. You can recite “Frozen” word for word and song for song. You want us to act out each scene with you. Princesses are so real for you. They are your heroes and friends. I don’t want to tell you that they are fairy tales. I so badly want the stories to be real for you.

Charlotte you look so grown-up now. Gone is the toddler physique. In its place is a slender, small little girl with bouncing long curls and bright blue eyes. Your skin is so fair and ivory. You get frustrated when I brush your hair and slather on sunscreen, but if I tell you it makes you pretty like a princess, you’re okay with it. I chuckle and shake my head when I have to tell you that. I didn’t mean for you to be a girly-girl like me, but there is no denying it, you are.

You have embraced your role as big sister. I love seeing your developing relationship with your brother. He watches everything you do, Charlotte. You like to make him giggle. You are proud to show him off to your friends. I have to warn you that he will one day be bigger and stronger than you , so you may want to stop taking every toy he wants to hold.

You have had your difficult 3-year-old moments. You told your first lie recently. You have learned about lying and disobeying. You don’t want to be bad, but you are testing your limits, no doubt. Forgive me when I’m not always as patient and kind as I should be. You are only 3 and I forget that sometimes.

You are growing strong and becoming a remarkable little person. It is the honor of my life to raise you and Henry with Daddy. I love being your Mama. I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama

Dear Charlotte,

For the past few weeks I’ve been asking you how old you are, just to hear you say “I’m two!” because it’s so sweet and adorable. I think it’s a mama thing. Mamas have to deal with their babies getting older. The thing that has surprised me is how much I have loved the three-year-old narrative that follows “I’m two!”

You usually say, “But on my next birfday I’m gonna be free!” I ask why we had your party early and you say, “Because the baby’s comin’ at my birfday and I’m gonna be a big sister!”

Today your birthday remained your own and your brother or sister remained wombside, making us wait, just like you did until three years ago today. It’s okay. You’ll probably be glad not to have to share November 2nd when you are older and little siblings are not cool.

Happy Birthday! I’m  convinced, sweet girl that the old song is true. Three is a magic number.

“The past and the present and the future
Faith and hope and charity
The heart and the brain and the body
Give you three
That’s a magic number”

-Schoolhouse Rock

This year of age 2 has been wonderful. Since 2 1/2 you have left toddlerhood and become a full-fledged preschooler with gusto, never looking back. You are potty trained now. You still wear a Pull-Up at night, but we’ll get to that. No rush. You have left behind some toddler toys, and replaced them with your imagination. Daddy and I are amazed all the time at the stories you act out in your head and the scenarios you come up with. You’re always asking us to come to your playroom for a “picnic” or come inside Rapunzel’s “tower.”

You love your friends and classmates. You can tell us what’s happening at school each day and what you’re learning. You always want to know what letter something starts with or what a color is in Spanish. You say, “Let’s do shapes Mama!” That means you want to name what shape something is that I point out. You told your teacher recently that the square she drew was not a circle because a circle has no sides and no angles. The teacher asked you if you wanted an algebra book. We laughed. We are so proud of your excitement to learn. We have a feeling the “why” phase is fast approaching as that word comes up often.

With all of this “threeness” is you asserting your independence. We frequently hear “No! I do it by myself!” Overall, you are a well-behaved kid, but listening to Mama and Daddy or your teachers is tough for you sometimes. It’s a balance for us to encourage your independence, but still learn boundaries and manners. We’re learning.

We love how brave you are. When some kids your age scream and run away from things, you don’t. It’s not that  you weren’t scared of the zombie Halloween decoration we saw trick-or-treating, you were. But, you mustered up your courage and headed to the house anyway with the determined look Daddy and I love.

“A man and a woman had a little baby
Yes, they did
They had three in the family
That’s a magic number”

Three will mean big changes for you as  you become a big sister and we become a family of four but we know you will be up for it strong girl. This was a birthday we celebrated as a family of three for the last time. It was magical.

I love you, my darling, darling girl.

Love,

Mama