I don't know how it happened again, but here we are, four months after my last letter. All of a sudden you are 10 months old. I swear, I had every intention of writing you at least once or twice since the last time, but well, I didn't. One of these days, I'll make it up to you. Pinky swear. But for now, maybe I should just stop apologizing and just start talking.
What I really want to say it has been an honor and a joy getting to know you these past few months. I sure do like you a whole lot.
You are smart.
You are funny.
You are sensitive.
You are strong.
You are independent.
You are actually kind of badass. (Remember the time that you got two stitches and you were like, "What? It's no big deal.")
You like to play.
You like to explore.
You like to eat.
You like to dance.
You like to go for walks.
You like to play with Henry.
Heck, you like to do whatever Henry's doing.
You crawl quickly and expertly.
You wave like a princess on a parade float.
You laugh like you are desperately trying to catch your breath. (And you have the most adorable crooked grin.)
You pull my hair and you tug on my glasses,
but you make it up to me with big slobbery open-mouthed kisses.
You stop people dead in their tracks because you're just a stunner. (Your eyes are somethin' else.)
I call you My String Bean, since you're long and lean. A weirdo, but in a loving way. Maira Mae, even though that's not really your name. Baby Girl, because you are. You are a bright and beautiful baby girl, and you're mine.
At least every other day, your papa and I will look at each other in amazement and say, "I can't believe we have a Maira." It's just so crazy to us that once upon a time you were just a What If to us. You were just a wish. By some unbelievable luck of the draw that wish of ours came true. And now we have a daughter... a Maira... you. It's pretty great. You're pretty great.
I love you so much, Baby Girl.
Hugs & kisses,
This is the fourth in a series of letters to my daughter, Maira. I also wrote letters to my son Henry almost every month for the first year of his life. You can read previous ones here, here, and here.