To C on Her 7th

As years go, 1999 was pretty good for me. I was back living where I wanted to live after a couple of years in Colorado. Your mom and I bought a nice house, and we had decent jobs. We had a little convertible and spent a lot of time driving around with the top down, and the tunes cranked. Life was good.

It got better when I found out I was going to be a dad. I will remember the moment I found out for the rest of my life.

You entered our life seven years ago today, and changed our whole world. It was the warmest November on record. The week before you were born, the temperatures were in the 70s. I wore a t-shirt with no jacket when I drove your mom to the hospital.

You were smaller than we expected, but you were perfect. You were never shaped like a baby. We had a hard time finding clothes that fit you because you weren't a compact little stubby-chubby like other babies. You were thin, and had looooooong arms (and even longer legs) that didn't quite fit into those footed baby outfits.

From the moment you were born, you have been in motion. It barely stops when you sleep. You have more energy than anyone I've ever met, and that is saying something. You have always had extraordinary coordination and a knack for athletic activities. Yesterday, you gushed that you got to do the coolest thing in gym class where you ran from one side to the other over and over again. You were excited that you got to do windsprints!

You never want to miss any excitement - even if it means skipping sleep. When you were a baby, we didn't sleep much. Sometimes the only thing that worked was to set you on top of the washing machine in your bouncy chair. Sometimes we had to put you in the pickup truck and drive around. I spent a couple of nights on your bedroom floor. I put you in your windup swing and slept while it rocked you. You'd wake up when it stopped, I'd wind it again, and we'd sleep for a few more minutes.

You were your mom's girl for the first three years. There were times that you wouldn't even let me hold you. That changed shortly before your sister was born. I got to stay home with you for a couple of months, and you decided that you could be my buddy. Even though those were really stressful months, I'm very glad that I got to hang around with you and gain your acceptance.

When I had to leave for six months for work, it hurt us both a lot more than we realized at the time. They initially told me it was only going to last for 2 or 3 months. I told my boss that he had to find a way to get me back home when we woke you up for your mom to take me to the airport and you cried. You asked me how many more mornings we had to do this, and if you could wear your special socks with the stars on them. Out of all of these seven years, that was the time where I felt I had failed you the most.

You seem to have inherited your father's penchant for thrillseeking. It's a wonder you haven't given your mother a heart attack on a couple of occasions. She still talks about the time you dragged your little plastic slide up to the top of the big slide on the swingset and she stopped you before you could ride the little slide down the big slide. And yet, you almost never get hurt. How do you do that?

You are a very bright little girl. You do well in school, and we're very proud of that. But even more than that, we're proud of your giving nature. Every teacher you've had has remarked on how empathetic and genuinely caring you are toward others. That's a very special gift, especially for one so young.

I feel that it's your mom's and my greatest accomplishment that you are a secure and confident person. I'm so glad you have graced our lives with your presence, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for you.

Happy birthday, munchkin.