Oh, Miss N...you're eight years old today. EIGHT. YEARS. OLD. I'm sure that doesn't strike you as as monumental as it does dear old Mom and Dad, but someday you'll look in a mirror on April 9th and say to yourself, "I'm twenty-eight years old today. TWENTY. EIGHT." and you'll get it. They say youth is wasted on the young because we're always in a hurry to grow up and do all the grown up things we perceive to be cool. We don't realize what a gift youth is until it's passed us by and we get chewed up and spat out by the world. But I've come to realize in this past year that you're smarter than the average bear. There's a part of you that is just itching to be like your too cool for school cousin Miss R, a part of you that wants to "get big" and make your way out into the world. But most of the time, you're quite content to be the age you are. You are one of the lucky few who takes advantage of youth, who appreciates it while it's still in the building. And I'm grateful for that for two reasons. The first being that I hope you don't become one of those people who longs for the easier days of youth when adulthood becomes too tough, somebody who looks back with regret about all the things they didn't do as a youngin. Not many of us can say that. The second reason I'm grateful that you're in no hurry to grow up is because I kinda don't want you to, at least not too quickly. It's been rough to come to terms with the fact that you're no longer that tiny toddler who couldn't get enough of me. But thanks for not being as embarrassed by my as your friends seem to be by their parents. You still like to hang out with me, you don't (yet) see me as a hindrance and, not to influence any future decisions you make make about that, but it would probably rip my heart out if you ever did (see what I did there? Parental guilt is magic!). I don't like to think about that now though. Right now I just want to enjoy riding shotgun with you for as long as you let me.
You know better than anyone that dad is an eyes guy. Someone once told me that if you fall in love with someone's eyes, you'll stay in love forever because that's the one thing that never changes. Good looks fade, personalities can change, but eyes remain the same. When I think back to when you and I first laid eyes on each other, it's overwhelming. That was love at first sight in its purest form. It even drew my attention away from the fact that you were blonde which, as you know, was an earth shattering discovery for me (I kid, but seriously, if you grow up to be blonde, I'm probably not your dad). I've always loved watching your eyes; when you see something for the first time, when you're excited about something, when you laugh. Your mom says you and I both get the same light in our eyes when we talk about or are doing something we're excited about. She thinks she's the third wheel because you and I both get that same light whenever we're together, and we always have. I can't speak to that since I can't see it from mom's point of view, but I do know that we're bonded in a very different way and that bond is the best thing to ever happen to me. What a blessing it would be to be able to watch those eyes light up for the next fifty or sixty years.
The past year has been a highly significant one for you and for our family. You and I acquired a stepdad. You began the second grade. You saw "Star Wars" for the first time. You badgered me for a puppy and, later, for a stepmom (good tactic, btw). You shamed me for my poor drawing skills. And yet, I still love you. I'd still do anything for you. People often talk about parenthood being this big, transformative change in one's life, and it is. But it's a constant transformation; one hour to the next, one week to the next, and certainly one year to the next. You don't realize how short a year really is until you look back and see how this little, and now not-so-little, person has changed. And how lucky I am to be there to watch it all happen everyday. Is it always a picnic? No. But we get through it. And you're a lucky girl to have three parents who adore you and a family who will scold you for your sass by putting their own sass on display. And sass is something you have plenty of. Your mom and I had both hoped you wouldn't inherit the Carrasco clever/smart alekness, but here you are, just as sassy as the rest of my side of the family. Whilst I will find that fantastic when you're older and we can sass people together, it's not as much fun to deal with when you sass me now, and it will probably be even less fun when you do it as a teenager. But you also inherited your mother's intelligence and will, which will serve you well throughout your life. You're a fiery little thing, that's for sure.
Being your dad has been without question the greatest achievement of my life. It seemed like a very tall task for me to get my stuff together and care for the needs of someone else when you first came along. But in hindsight, there's probably no other reason I would have straightened up. I believe things come to you when you need them, even if it's when those things are the last thing you expect. You are everything I didn't know I needed. Sometimes it's been a rocky-ish journey for you and me and your mom, but hopefully the worst of it is behind us. I adore you, Miss N and I hope your eighth year treats you well. Happy Birthday, kid.
