My Dear beautiful Aspen,
I still can't believe it has been 3 years since you have joined us. I've thought a lot this week about that day. We checked into the hospital on Saturday, but your dad wished that you would come on father's day (on Sunday). Well, he got his wish, and you have been the best father's day present he could ever hope for.
The poem that goes "when she was good, she was REALLY REALLY good, and when she was bad she was horrid" could have been written about you. You are so cheerful when you wake up (on your own). You come in and ask how I slept, and tell me you have slept good. You are always cheerful and love to play with others... until you get tired... then the horrid part comes out. An afternoon nap seems to do the trick, and two hours later, my little sweet girl emerges with her smile once again.
You are so smart. You use words I am amazed you know how to say, let alone know how to use in context. The other day you set out all your dinosaurs and put the mountains in the distance and informed me it was the "mysterious beyond". You have a little attitude and recently have taken to telling your dad and I "NO" when we ask you to do something. You put your hands on your hips and walk around the house like you own the place. You know your colors (red and green you still get mixed up), and know how to count above 13, and even know how to count in Spanish, but you always seem to miss the number 3.
Your brother Brenden loves to tease you. He takes your ball, until you cry for it (you aren't too big on the sharing thing), then he takes your baby stroller, until you cry for it, then he is back to your ball... and the cycle goes on. You are Wade's little shadow. You love to climb on him and follow him around.
Books are your weakness. You have decided that the front porch is the reading spot, and if I am sitting out there, you say "oh... lemme get a book", and in you go... and out you come, usually with "Give a Mouse a Cookie" or "Goodnight Moon" or (your favorite... that you can recite) "Go, Dog, Go". This week I even spotted you out reading your new dragon book to the neighbors little dogs.
You are a beautiful girl. I've always thought so (because to me you are always beautiful), but other people have always commented on your beauty. This past Saturday I was in the middle of talking to someone, when you turned to look at them. In mid-sentence they stopped and said "wow, she is beautiful".
Dad has taught you this week to say "Dad is the King", which he is pretty proud of because no matter how much he has tortured me in the past 6 years, I have never given in and told him he was the KING. And to you, he is THE KING. And you are his Princess. You love to "nuggle" in bed next to him. He loves to feed your addiction to chocolate milk. You love to jump on his back and say "Monkey on the back", and he pretends to try to shake you off. He jumps on your trampoline with you, plays ball, goes on walks and Bronco rides with you. You are his world.
To me, however, you have been a chance to love being a mom again. To tell you stories and tuck you into bed. To smell the baby part of you be replaced by summer sweat of a toddler. To love again. You lie asleep in my lap right now, and I watch you sleep knowing that the minute I turn my head you will be 18 and running off to college, and no longer my little girl.
I love you so much. Thanks for all you have given to your dad and me. You keep us laughing, worrying, and living.