Dear Greta,

Dear Greta,

Here we are, four months after you showed up and I still have days where I can't believe you are mine. There are still moments during the day when you are off at daycare and I'm zoned in on a project at work when I forget that you are in my life, and suddenly, your bright face flashes to mind and I am filled with a new kind of eagerness for the end of the day, to see you (as I flip through endless photos of you on my phone).  I don't know what God saw in me that made him think I deserved you, but I am so thankful he let me give parenting a try with you, precious girl.

Dear Greta,

I want you to know that I'm not perfect. Far, far from it. (I may need to tell you this now, but I'm sure once you reach your teenage years you will have no problem reminding me of this fact). I do, however, want you to know that I will continue to try to be as close to a perfect mother for you as I can be.

Every. Single. Day.

Through the tears you may see me smiling through, or perhaps the smile you may see me hiding behind, behind the angry words you may (okay, will) overhear from your car seat as I yell at traffic, in spite of every bad day you may witness me having, or perhaps that we share together, I will always be trying - to be the best possible mother for you that I can be.

Dear Greta,

The truth is, I have no idea what I'm doing most of the time when it comes to parenting. Your dad and I are truly just "winging it" - but so far, so good. I'm learning more every day. I'm told by multiple people how happy you are, how beautiful you are, how gifted you are (mostly coming from your grandma...), and it makes me think that we are doing a pretty good job raising you so far. I'll take your beautiful smile to be your way of telling me that you agree.

Dear Greta,

I want to share the world with you. I want you to experience the amazement of taking off in an airplane - a feeling that never gets old to me. I want to take you to some of my favorite places: charming German villages, calming Florida beaches, vibrant east-coast metropolises. I want to continue to introduce you to animals (specifically, bunnies, obviously) and I want you to experience the true joy they have when you simply walk through the door after taking the trash out (speaking about your puppy, Miller, here). I want to show you how you can express who you are with your personal style. I want to take you to my favorite shops, my favorite salon (although you already do love it there, you've been there twice).

But more than that...

I want you to show me your world. I want to experience your passions, share your dreams. I want to see the world through your eyes - a priceless perspective. I want to understand our surroundings from a viewpoint of someone rather new to this world. And I want to learn.

Dear Greta,

I want to thank you.

I want to thank you for propelling me into this new role of motherhood. For showing me how much love my heart is capable of, for showing me what my anxious mind is capable of overcoming.

I want to thank you for your infectious, joyful giggle that you shared with me just this morning when I came to get you up from your nap. I want to thank you for smiling at everyone - really, everyone. It's not only my life you enrich, it's every person that you meet. You truly are a blessing.

I want to thank you for giving me a deeper glimpse into the love our God has for us, although something I will truly never fully comprehend, the small sliver you have shown me deepens my faith all the more.

Dear Greta,

A couple of things you should know:

1. Even though I got your name from my beloved Jetta I had in college, it's not the same. Her name was spelled with two "T's" :)

2. No matter how much your dad complains about how much I spend on my hair, it's worth it. Please be on my side with this when you're old enough to talk.

3. Even though your puppy is adorable, smart (although I doubt it sometimes) and truly the most loyal creature you will ever meet - bunnies are superior and the greatest animal ever created.

Dear Greta,

I love you more than you will ever know.

Sincerely,

Mom.