I love you, Baloo

It is the middle of the night and I just got through putting my little girl back to sleep in her crib. She is usually really good about sleeping through the night, but tonight was a fluke. It struck me as I held her and comforted her how MUCH I love my little one. I've heard my whole life that you don't understand love until you have a child. I think I can say that I agree. There is nobody else in the world that I can make feel completely better just by giving them a hug. I love looking at her little face and holding her little body. I love her smile and how she laughs at me when I do silly dances for her (and only her!). I love being able to feed her and bathe her, read to her, play with her, sing to her, etc. I even love waking up for her. I know that sounds weird, but the first thought that comes to my head when I hear her cry in the other room is not "Oh, great, the baby's up..." but rather, "My girl needs me." I guess it makes me feel special to be able to care for her like she wants me to. And she is so smart. I am probably biased, but ever since she was born people have told me that she is so responsive and bright. I have video of her grinning at me when she was only two weeks old. I feel like I can relate to her on such a deep level - and she can't even talk! That probably says something about my own mentality, but I love that it binds me to my daughter so completely. I have never known joy like this before.

I love that she looks just like her daddy. At first, I thought that she looked like baby pictures of me, but more and more she looks just like him. It reminds me that she is a part of both of us, that she didn't exist until WE existed as the family that we are. To tell you the truth, I get a little jealous when Brooklyn smiles at other people. I guess I'm selfish about causing her happiness. But when she smiles at her daddy, I just want to see her do it over and over again. She is ours together. Together we are somehow learning to care for her and raise her as we were cared for and raised. It's the most intense learning experience I've ever had.

This little girl has so many names. In addition to Miss Brooklyn Rose, she is called Baby Girl, Buns, Shalita, Baloo, Caramello, Peanut, Bugga, and, her daddy's favorite, Poop Butt, said in the most loving of tones. With so many names, and so many words, you would think there would be the perfect phrase to describe this kind of... and I can't even finish the sentence. These feelings are something I have never known. I love her so completely that it surprises me when I wake up in the morning to find that I love her even more than I did the day before. Each day is a treat and a treasure and it is SUCH a blessing to know that she is ours forever. She is proof that miracles, God, and angels exist. She has jumpstarted my testimony and my heart. I am excited to wake up to her tomorrow.