My Beautiful Tate

This is my beautiful Tate at her 9th birthday party. She's holding a card of earrings she got from her great-granny.

Sometimes I look at this child of mine and am in awe that someone so beautiful could come from me. She's not just beautiful on the outside, her heart and soul are beautiful too.

She is kind and gentle and caring. She always thinks of everyone else first, which sounds nice, but I worry that it will cause her great grief in future years. She feels things totally and completely. Nothing is ever half way with her. If you're sad, she's sad with you. If you're happy, she's laughing with you. She wears her heart and feelings on her sleeves and sometimes it causes her to get hurt.

She is my middle child, and because she's the quiet one, sometimes she gets lost in the shuffle. I have to make it a point to carve out Mom and Tate time because she won't ask for it, she hates to make demands.

I am terribly proud of her, and I love her to death. She is special beyond words, and beautiful beyond description, inside and out.

Happy Birthday, (a few weeks late) Tate. I love you.