There is nothing in this world like a little one in this world like my little girl.
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She is the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, self-aware and lost in her own little world.

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She hums and twirls her way through the day and every day she dances her way into my heart.

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She is motherhood dragging a doll by her hair, royalty with her shoes on the wrong feet, dignity who wants a bathroom buddy, elegance with peanut butter on her face. She is pigtails and tattered tulle, a mommy-child with the wisest but silliest words.

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She scolds and bosses, sings and story tells, whispers secret words meant only for her to hear, and is always ready to either ask or answer “why?”. And oh, when she giggles and smiles, my heart lightens and swells and sighs a deep sigh. She makes me remember and forget.   

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She is squeals and glitter and happy endings. She is ponies and princesses and giggly glee. She is temper and tenderness and tears. She is thought provoking questions and utter goofiness.   

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She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head and tells us she knows all about it. She wakes up in the night and her tear-filled eyes  say “I need you.”
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Even when her mouth talks of grown up plans with vocabulary far beyond her years, her eyes tell of a little girl still fascinated with pink and paste and pretend. A little girl whose greatest comfort is still her mommy’s chest and her daddy’s arms. I think I will always see her as she is now-this mix of big and little girl , so wise and graceful in her own eyes, yet still so innocent of the blemishes of time.   

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When I look at her I see a crown that glitters with the brightest jewels made of who she is. A crystal for her sensitivity, and an emerald for her compassion, a ruby for her silliness and one for her smarts. Two diamonds for her loving heart, an amethyst for her imagination, one opal for her tenderness and a topaz for her desire to please. Her crown proves she is a princess. It starts in her heart and radiates from her hair to her feet. I see a princess that sparkles and shines, even though sometimes the crown is cock-eyed and crooked as she runs and plays and stretches and grows. Other people may not see it, but I am pretty sure that as I look at my girl there will always be a crown on her head. 
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