to my daughter on her 4th birthday

Maggie is four today.

And speaking of mothers I swore I’d never be, before my daughter was born, I swore that I would NEVER, no not EVER, buy her a birthday present that looked like this:

And yet.

I have a daughter who puts her blankie on her head and plays bride.

I have a daughter who loves purses, baby dolls, pink sparkly shoes, and headbands.

Oh, and princesses. How she loves princesses.

And I love it too. Because pretending she’s a princess, or a bride, doesn’t make her feel less-than; it makes her feel spectacular.

And because loving princesses means she’s still a little bit little. And she knows it too.

“Someday, when I’m tired of playing with my princess computer,” she told me about five minutes after tearing the wrapping paper off it, “we’ll give it to another little girl. Right, Mom?”

Right, Maggie. Just don’t go growing up any time too soon.

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