I'm writing this letter to you even though I know you won't read it. You can't read yet. You are merely three years old, but oh how full your life has already been. The reason I'm writing this, is to say, thank you. You are by far, my best three years and you've been more than just my child; you've been my motivational, my purpose, my inspiration.
Thank you for fighting so hard when a nasty illness tried to take you from me.
Thank you for being so brave. In the hospital. Through multiple surgeries. And for all these painful fills.
Thank you for making me smile, cry and laugh.
Thank you for fighting with me every single damn morning about getting dressed. Who wants their morning routine to be easy?!
Thank you for being excited to see me every time we have been apart. The feeling is oh so mutual.
Thank you for still asking me to rock you like a baby. You have no idea how much that breaks and mends my heart each time
Thank you for pooping in the bath tub. It was hysterical to me. But also, thank you for no longer doing that.
Thank you for being such a great child. Of course you are starting to show very strong signs of terrible 3's, but I will take them. At least I have a toddler to deal with.
Thank you for saying I'm your best friend. I know there will be times that you swear you despise me and I'm counting on these sweet times to get me through those years.
Thank you for never giving up. Even when the odds were stacked against you. Even when they said you wouldn't survive. I remember sitting by your hospital crib, pleading with you to please continue to fight to live. And you did.
You have exceeded all my dreams these past three years and although you won't understand this; I'm so thankful for you. Every ounce and tantrum.
