12

She was born on Thanksgiving Day. Our own little turkey, freshly delivered. And right from the start, I knew she was the closing of our story. The caboose at the end of this train. So, I just simply enjoyed her more. I knew she was the last newborn I would bathe, the last baby toes I would kiss. I memorized every moment.

And now she's 12. And that feels so incredibly old for the Baby Child. Somehow that elevates everything into a different season of life. She's the ushering in or the closing up, I guess. Either one, she is there, our constant. The tie that seems to wrap us all up together. She buttoned up our little family and made us whole.

She still does. She's my great reminder to slow it all down and take a look. She's the beauty I get to keep after dealing with too much Real Life. She holds us all steady and balances us all out. We really wouldn't be the same without her. Truly.

She has an unreasonable addiction to Dr. Pepper and she's adopted her dad's fascination with chap stick. She needs everything in order just like her mother and her eye lashes will forever be everyone's envy. She's quirky and beautiful. Stubborn and sweet. And most importantly, she's mine. A gift I'm grateful for every day (mostly). You know how it goes.

Happy Birthday, my Addie Bean.
Always be you. Forever a gift.
Thank you for your joy.