Last year my friend Lou told me about this book

I fell in love with the name instantly and promptly googled it. The little girl on the cover looked like Willow and the title could have been written for my tiny whisp of wild blonde heaven.

She is wild, my girl. And sweet and funny and outrageously behaved, often. She’s 2 ½ and every other day is her birthday. She is everything that is pink and sparkly and princessy and Dora and Tinkerbell. She is heaven. Heaven. She generally refuses to have her photo taken and is non compliant with most reasonable requests. She is bewildered by unkindness and is a tiny slip of a fiesty fairy with hair that has a personality and life all its own. She reminds me of a Guns n Roses song that I still love. Sometimes when I look at her it makes me catch my breath that she is mine. Sweet, sweet, sweet, child of mine.

We tried not to have her, not to want her, not to long for her. We tried to be done with our two beloved boys. We tried to just be content and satisfied with these two gentle, perfect, healthy, little people we had been so very blessed with. And we were, for a while. For years actually. But she was missing. I dreamt of her long before we conceived her. I knew her. She was our only planned baby, almost the moment we decided to let fate decide on a third she was on her way. We didn’t try for a girl, but it was always her. She was just waiting to be invited.

This moment was one of the most perfect of my life. Captured, of course, by my beautiful Angie. I am so grateful.

I can still feel it every time I look at these photos. The moment our family became complete. The moment our boys met their tiny sister and all my loves were present and accounted for.  Now there are enough little faces at our table, now there is enough noise, enough laughter. Now I don’t live in limbo anymore.

I want so many things for my tiny daughter. I want her to stay wild, to stay sweet, to be strong, to be brave, to choose to be kind, to believe that she is fabulous and beautiful and clever and capable of achieving anything. To understand she doesn’t need anyone to make her whole. I want her to know, with absolute certainty, that she is loved. Completely. I want her understand that things get better, that everything really does look brighter in the morning. That life is beautiful and worthwhile and a fabulous adventure. Like her….