I write this to you at 11:45 at night just after I have fed you your bottle and put you back to bed. As I was doing so, your tiny hand clasped on to my finger and you would not let go. Sitting there in the dark of the bedroom, your eyes closed, you barely sucking on the last of you bottle, your little hand holing my finger, and me holding you tightly in my arms, I simply asked that you stay little. As I asked this impossible task of you I thought of you growing up and getting bigger, all the while I kept asking the question. I pictured you as a toddler, as your big brother is now, running around, scrapping knees and elbows, and playing silly games with me, still being my baby girl. I also pictured you a little older, on stage at a dance recital or running around the bases in a softball game, and I still couldn't help but ask that you stay my little baby girl. I pictured you learning to drive and eventually going off to college. As I picture you getting older, I find it more difficult to ask you to stay little, I know better. I know you will get bigger, I know the inevitable truth about the question I keep asking you. I then pictured you in the position I find myself in, with a child of your own to adore in the middle of the night. Still I can't help but ask, please, just always be my baby girl.
Love Always
Papa-
