To Whom Falls in Love With My Daughter
To whom falls in love with my daughter,
I couldn’t stop thinking about you today while I laid down next to April for a nap. A small baby — only 21 months old — just a fresh, new thing on this planet. It was a cloudy day, but somehow the little bit of sunlight there filtered its way through my curtains and danced across her face. Her eyelashes, long and thick — beautiful. Her chubby, toddler cheeks, so irresistible I almost kissed her right awake again. She took a while to get to sleep today, but I just laid beside her and pretended I was asleep, too. That seemed to do the trick. She needed to know we weren’t all having fun without her. For only an instant, as I looked at her perfect, round face, I felt like I could see what she might look like when she’s older. And then, somehow, I thought about you — the person who will fall in love with her. Of course you did. Who couldn’t? Even this young, I’m certain that she is one of the funniest girls I’ve ever met. She peeks around corners and looks to see if anyone is watching before she does something goofy. She laughs at herself. She wants to be held all the time, and I’m certain that means that by the time you read this, when you love her, she’ll still be affectionate and loyal. She’s the real deal, isn’t she?
And then I thought about Jane, my four-year-old, faking asleep in her room across the house. Silent as a mouse for two whole hours, no doubt trying to read her books even with the curtains drawn tight. I wonder what silent conversations she’s having with her dolls and stuffed animals, how she’s probably making note of all of the things she wants to tell us when she finally emerges from her pretend nap. What a brilliant beauty that girl is. She’s intense, no doubt, and I’m certain that she encourages you relentlessly. She’s a cheerleader, a teacher, an advocate, and she cares fiercely about things being fair. And maybe you’re the one in love with her. How couldn’t you be?
So, let’s talk about you. First of all — thank you for loving my daughter. What a gift for her to be able to experience love. I believe you are every bit as wonderful as they are. My daughters have impeccable taste, I’m certain. They have watched me and their father love each other in a very honest and real way for so many years. We are not perfect — not even close — but we have chosen to love each other time and time again despite our many imperfections, and I can only pray that our daughters will do the same. She will expect affection, you know. A little wink across the kitchen, a tiny smack on the booty when they walk by. We hug and kiss and smooch and squeeze them nonstop. It’s kind of crazy. So, you’ll need to do that, too. She’ll expect you to stand up for her like we do. And God knows, you better laugh at her jokes. I probably should have said that first. Dance with her, too, won’t you? Make sure she has fun.
It’s hard to imagine who you might be and how you might love our daughter, but it’s even harder to imagine that one day, you just might hurt her, too. Please don’t hurt her. I know she looks grown and beautiful and mature and like, maybe, she’s got it all together. Like maybe, she’ll be fine. But deep down, she is just the baby that naps next to me and can hardly put two words together. She’s still the baby who can’t put her shoes on herself. She’s just the four-year-old who says, “pantycakes” instead of “pancakes.” She’s still the little girl who talks about the booboo she got two years ago. Please — love her because you see who she is entirely. She talks like she’s tough — and God knows she is — but don’t take advantage of that, okay? Be tender with her.
People always say, “Oh, you better have your shotgun ready!” and I really hate that. I trust you, but more importantly, I trust my daughter. I pray that my daughter loves you in the way you need it, too. I hope that right now, while I’m writing this and you’re just a child, that you are being loved in the way that I love my daughters. I hope that you are being held and told how worthy you are and encouraged to be exactly who you were meant to be. I hope that no one expects perfection from you, and I hope that no one mistreats you. I need you to be loved well so that you can love my daughter well. But not only that — you need to be loved well because every child deserves that, don’t they? No matter how it seems — we’re all still those babbling babies. Desperate for attention. For affection. For validation. For love. You’re still that baby, too, and I won’t let her forget that. I won’t either. After all, I don’t believe my daughter is your better half. When love is real, and I mean really real, you have no choice but to be two wholes.
Born and raised in a small town in Georgia, KATE BAILEY is a wife and a mother of two girls, Jane and April. She works in the field of personalized learning in secondary Education. Her mission is to find the beauty in the ordinary, wonderful, and difficult moments of parenthood as a way to connect us all and validate each of our journeys.
