Letter 18

Dearest Peapod,

The amazement continues.  Now mobile, you roll from one side of your playmat to the other as if it doesn't phase you.  Lucky enough, Ms. Barbara caught it on video so I could watch from the coldness of my office as your journey in life continues.  Your father and I now call you the secret roller--you wait until neither of us is paying attention, then you quickly roll away and begin to whine, as if to say, "Hey! Look at what I just did and you're not paying attention!"  Yet, I know it won't be long and you won't have to whine--you'll be tapping me on the ankle because you've crawled to me.  I have to admit, though, it may not be me you crawl to since lately, you can't bear the idea of leaving your proud Daddy's arms.  For Father's Day last weekend, you gifted him with books for the two of you to become engrossed in and shoes so he could keep up with you.  Yesterday, as we watched you play in your jumper, tears of overwhelming joy sprang to your Daddy's eyes.  Never to be the sentimental one, your Daddy quickly brushed them away.  But, as the bond between father and daughter grows, I am reminded of my own father.  It's no secret my father is one of few words, and because of that, I feel like there is always so much I want to say that goes unsaid.  So, to celebrate my own father on Father's Day, I hid a card in his driver bag that said everything in my heart so there was never a question as to how I loved my Daddy.  He may not be able to tell me how he feels, either in verbally or in a letter, but I can rest easily knowing he knows how I feel.  The bond between Daddy and his Little Girl is so incredibly special, and I am so grateful to have experienced it with my Dad, and now I get to watch this remarkable bond between my Peapod and her Daddy.  I'm so richly blessed!

I love you my Daddy's Girl,

Mommy