Most of the time I feel like I know you so well. We spend almost all our days together. You love it when I hold you. You still nurse five times a day. In so many ways, we are as close as can be.
But sometimes I feel like there is an air of mystery about you, like there are parts of your personality you haven't disclosed to me yet. Sometimes I sense it in your half-smile as we play or when you grab your solid foods and aggressively stuff them in your mouth. Sometimes I catch the mystery in your whimper when I pick you up from daycare or the nursery at church. Sometimes I notice it when you are standing or army crawling or attempting to wrestle your sister, and I wonder what your physical agility will amount to in the future. I know you are more sensitive to strangers than your sister was, and I wonder if you will an extrovert or an introvert, and what your spiritual gifts will be as you interact with others in the future.
I don't know why I sense the mystery. Maybe it's because I don't have endless amounts of time to study you as I did with your older sis. Maybe it's because, as a firstborn myself, I am curious about how children develop when they have an older sibling around them at all times. Maybe it's because I now know all the wonders and joys of having a toddler in the house, and I am eager to know what your affinities and mannerisms will be. Will you be shy? Loud? Will you building with blocks best? Or reading books? What funny phrases will you say? What will your favorite songs be?
I love everything I know about you so far, and I am thankful there is even more to discover about your heart, mind, and soul. I am excited to watch the mystery unfold, darling daughter. I know it will be a captivating story.