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Twenty four months

Today you turn twenty four months, Greta. Two years old. 730 days. 

You will probably have no clue how much love and joy you have brought to your family. I believe in every woman's heart they long for a daughter. I had that longing. But it wasn't strong enough for me to purposely risk having 3 boys. I kind of just ignored the little voice in the back of my head, just shooed it away every once in awhile when it decided to speak. You on the other hand, had plans of your own.

The day I decided to put my anxiety to rest and take the pregnancy test to prove to myself that I was indeed NOT pregnant was quite a momentous and tumultuous day. I awoke like most days, went to pee and decided to pull a test stick out that Aaron had purchased the night before. He was already at work and I figured this would calm my worrying mind. I couldn't be pregnant, I had a 15 month old and a 3 year old. There was no way. No. Way. After the second test said the same as the first, I began to hyperventilate and call your father. He thought someone had died, he couldn't really understand me through my sobs, but he came right home. We cried together. They weren't tears of joy either. We kept it very quiet for the first three months, we had to get used to the idea first before we were ready to tell others about it.

I knew the day I took that test that you were the daughter I had longed for all my life. I told everyone you were going to be a boy and at every ultrasound I made them double and triple check, but I just knew.



It not only was a gigantic surprise that we were having another child, but that we were having a daughter and that daughter was you, there was no greater gift. You are a gift to your brothers. You will be the missing link in their lives; the one all boys wished they grew up with, a girl! One to answer all the questions they have about the opposite sex, you will be the friend they go to with questions about what to do and say if they like a girl, you will be the girl they can always trust, you are the one they adore.

Even this afternoon, as Sawyer was quietly watching Super Why on the television, you walked up to him and decided it was a good time to pull his hair and poke a goldfish-crumb-filled finger in his eye, all he did was yell out for me to come rescue him. He couldn't lay his hands on you. It melts my heart that Sawyer, almost 4 years old, is still convinced your first name is Baby. Baby Greta. That's what we call you. That's what you call yourself. At dinner I looked at you and told you that you are a little girl now, no longer a baby. Your response, "no. I am a baby." Of course you are. You will be all of our baby. Always. 



Gunnar looks at you with laughter. He can't look at you without smiling. You squeal when he comes home from school, you melt in his arms and you love being the last one to give him a kiss goodnight before we shut off the lights. He feeds you breakfast when he isn't running late in the mornings. You will eat anything for Gunnar, anything to make him smile, laugh. With as much adoration as they have for you, you have tenfold for your brothers.



Already at two years old you know the buttons to push with Sawyer. You like to walk by him and under your breath tell him, NO, Don't Talk! Immediately he is in tears and you think it's hilarious that in one sentence you can bring your big brother to tears. He will retaliate one day sweetie. One. Day.

You have your daddy wrapped around your finger unlike anything I have ever seen before. I love the way he looks at you and you can see through his eyes all the way down to his heart, that it just stops beating for that one small moment in time. It thrills me that he has a little girl that he will spend the rest of his life protecting and reassuring.



Each day you bring more smiles to our faces and amaze us with your humor. You have a sense of humor that is beyond words. You laugh at yourself when you put your red blankie on Lola, tormenting our poor dog by playing peek a boo. She too sits submissively, letting you indulge yourself in your own made up games.

Your fascination with all things feminine. Tutus. Dresses. Jewelry. I really thought with two older brothers you would be quiet the tomboy. But I think you have decided to rebel against all things male because of what you are surrounded with on a daily basis.

Greta, you are very sensitive and very fragile. If someone tells you no, to stop doing something, you listen, and then slowly a small frown begins on your lower lip and you cannot help but collapse in tears. You hate displeasing people you love, you weep if you fear they are unhappy with you. You are generous with your love. Never withholding a hug or a kiss, wanting to kiss every booboo and make it all better. You have made our lives all better. 

I already feel that time has slipped through my fingers. You are growing up and I wish I could reach up and hold the hands of the clock still, just a little while longer. I am not ready for you to grow up. I am not ready for you to become the little girl that you have transformed into. But you are my little girl and no matter how old you get, that won't change.



You are my daughter. My only daughter. A love of my life. And I honestly have forgotten what life was like before you. I think we all have forgotten what life was like before Greta. Daddy, your brothers, me, we all became complete the day you entered our lives.