Dear Charlie Eight

Dear Charlie, You turned 6 two days ago.

Wow. I gotta be honest with you up front – this has been a really tough year for me. 

I found myself turning 40, still very out-of-shape, in a very bad job situation, with no time to think, rest, or least of all step back and enjoy life. 

I’m sorry we didn’t go on many adventures. I want to change that this year. 

Still, we had a lot of laughs and fun, given how little time we had together. 

You can almost beat me at Mario Kart. 

And you’re so freakin’ smart.

I’m so proud of you. 

As I get older, when I say that, I hear my Dad saying that to me. 

Listen you’ll learn more when you’re older. Nobody is perfect, and my Dad was no exception. 

But I never once doubted that he was proud of me. And I never want you to doubt that either. 

If I’ve done anything right this crazy year as a parent, it’s that I have started to have you tell me what you are at least once a day. And you love to do it. 

You are thankful. 
You are beautiful.
You are smart.
You are strong.
You are loved.

This is the first year that I have to actively decide whether or not to let you read these letters.

Because for the first time, I know you that you could. I promise I’m doing my best to get healthy so we can hang out for as long as possible. 

You’re at this great age, where I genuinely just love getting to hang out. You’re starting to really have musical taste.

Girl on Fire, Rudolph by Ben Rector. And let’s not forget me tearing up as we both belt out “This is Me” from the Greatest Showman” soundtrack. Peak dad moment for me for sure.

Bluey will be the first show we start legitimately watching together. Not me humoring you, or vice versa. Just enjoying the same show. 

I am sorry in advance to the times I start to tear up at the most mundane things. 

Whenever you ask me to “carry you like a princess” to bed, and I say no because I’m tired… I need you know that I often cry later about it. 

Because one day you won’t want that anymore. Some random time will be the last time I do that. WHY THE HELL WOULD I EVER SAY NO TO THAT? 

I don’t know. But it’s happened. I’m not perfect. 

You’re starting to be such an amazing big sister, too. I look forward to seeing you two become lifelong friends. It will be the first time I’ve seen this sibling thing play out close-up. 

I love how you tell me bad jokes, and laugh at mine. 
I love how you still want to fist bump, high five and ET phone home, in that order.
I love that you’re learning Spanish and telling me buenos noches at night.
I love that you still run up and want to jump in my arms and hug me. 

Dear God, PLEASE let me live long to see my sweet little girl come back around to enjoying my company after inevitably being distant during her teen years. 

Anyway, I have to write Codie as well, so I’ll sign off. 

I love you Charlie. Te amo, princesa.