She tells me I’m pretty.
She tells me my coloring is beautiful, and my crafts are wonderful.
She thinks my singing is so, so pretty.
She thinks I can fix anything…an owie, a toy, a torn book, anything…
She thinks I know no fear, and I am “so strong.”
She believes me when I tell her there will be no owies at the doctor, and goes with confidence.
She is growing to trust me.
In her eyes I am funny. Hilarious.
In her eyes, I am smart. She thinks I know every stranger’s name…
In her eyes, I am powerful. She thinks I am the boss of everyone.
Even though I sometimes need a break, some “me time,” she never does…she NEVER gets tired of my company.
She runs to me when she gets an owie.
She calls for me when she is scared.
She is growing to love, and she is becoming attached.