For you at thirty,

Today you are six years old. If you want to be honest though, you aren’t really six yet. Not until 11:47pm. It’s about 9pm. I tried to tell you this multiple times today, but you just didn’t want to believe me. No MOM, I am six. Okay fine. Bossy. It’s okay, I remember saying the same thing to your grandma when she would tell me, you aren’t really this old until 2:26pm. One of those joys of being a mama, we get to harass our children. Trust me, you’ll do it one day. Maybe by the time you read this, you already will be. Who knows?

I am writing this for you, for your thirtieth birthday, because I am thirty. Welcome to thirty baby girl. Guess what? It’s not as scary as you believe. Or as scary as some of those around you would have you believe. I’m thirty. I have very little figured out. It’s okay. Hopefully by the time you read this, I will have figured out what I’m doing with my life. One could only hope you will have as well. If not though? It’s okay. You have time.

I figure by the time you read this, you will have lived enough of life to understand the things I am going to tell you. You will hopefully have forgiven me for my faults by then, or at least come to understand them a little more. I hope by the time you read this, you have a baby, or two. Hey even three is nice. Somehow I bet I’ll make a great grandmother. No pressure though.

Today was your birthday. Today you turned six. I wish I could bottle you up at this age. You are so entertaining. You are sweet and kind. You are extremely loving. You are a totally cuddle bug. In all honestly though, you were born that way, so it may never change. I hope it doesn’t. I hope at thirty you will still being willing to hug your mom in public, hold my hand often and cuddle on the couch while we watch movies. (Hey, a mom can dream right?)

Two weeks ago you asked me for a birthday gift that I wasn’t sure I could give you. Not the puppy you’ve been asking for months to have. (Sorry love, but no.) Not the new bike you are convinced you need. (You don’t.) Not a toy you saw on a commercial. (Mommy can you get me that? What is it? I don’t know, but it looks fun. Um, I don’t think so. Not now. Okay how about one day? Sure, when you can tell me what it is and why you need it.) Not even the iTouch your daddy gave to you from us today. No, you asked to go to an amusement park. With me, your sister and your daddy.

I’ll be honest, this gave me pause. I think it did your daddy too. We had to think about it and discuss it a few times. We decided we could both do this for you.

I’ll be honest with you my love, this was not an easy request to fill. I had to think about if my heart could take it. This year has been tough. Your daddy and I are in the process of getting divorced right now. I know that at 30, this is old news to you. But honey? It’s still new for us. For all of us. I understand why you asked. You love nothing more than to have your whole family with you at all times. You miss us together. Truth is, I do too. You wanted one adult per kid for rides. Logistically it made sense. Like I said though, it was a hard thing to do.

We did it. We had fun. You and your sister had an absolute blast. I had fun. It was hard though, I won’t lie to you. It was hard for me; it is hard for me, each time I do something like this. Something that involves a day spent with your dad. It won’t stop me from doing it though.

I fear you won’t remember us together. (It isn’t lost on me, that you were the exact same age as I was, when your grandma and grandpa got divorced.) Maybe it’s better that way. Maybe all you will remember are days like today. That is okay too. I don’t have memories of my parents like this. I want this for you. I promise you more days like today. Days filled with light hearted conversation between your dad and I. I promise you more day adventures with your family. All of us. I promise you more days filled with face paintings, funnel cakes and rides. I promise you this, because you deserve it. I promise you this because I adore you enough to make it a reality. Because I never want you to look at a picture of us from before and say to me, I just can’t picture us together. I never want you to wonder what we all looked like in the same room.

I can’t give you back what we used to have. That, is just not possible. I can however swear to you, that your dad and I will continue to put aside our own feelings for each other, for the good of you and your siblings.

Today is your birthday. Sixth and thirtieth…because I am printing this out and saving it for you. It will go in the box for you for someday. Filled with letters, pictures, strange mementos from over the years and the outfit you came home from the hospital in. One day, it will be yours.

You are currently laying in bed asleep next to me. This was something that started when your dad moved out, something I’m not sure I’m ready to stop yet. You are so beautiful. I can still see a bit of glitter on your face, from the butterfly you insisted you needed pained on you today. You are so full of life and love. You care about people and animals more than anyone I know. You are one of the most empathetic children I’ve ever met in my life. You are also the funniest child I’ve ever met in my life. Each day, I am blessed to have you in my life. I’d give you the world if I could baby girl. I’d hand it to you right now on a nice pink glittery platter next to a huge stack of Silly Bandz. I know that it’s not possible though.

What I can give you is my promise. My promise to try to do this right for you, Morgan and Harrison. My promise that I’ll keep putting my feelings aside from time to time, to make sure you have memories of your family together. For you.

I love you to the moon and back. I love you more than all the stars in the sky. Happy birthday Bailey.

Love, mama