Dear Daughter,
You’re 16 weeks old today. The time is flying, but I can’t say I’m upset that our fussy newborn days are (mostly) behind us. You laughed for the first time last week and you’ve officially found your voice, which you use often. You’re starting to grab at your toys and you’re almost rolling over from back to front. You’re nearly sleeping through the night which is a huge gift to your mama.
As I watch you grow and wake up to the world, I see so much fire. You’re a big bright soul trapped in a tiny body, always trying to figure things out. You want to be on the move, to see everything and take it all in. You’re quickly bored if left in one place for too long, and you let us know with your protests, grunts and wiggles.
I see fierce determination when you purse your lips, kick your legs, flail your arms, and throw your body over to the side. I see a fiery spirit threatening to bust out of its container, ready to move around and explore the world. Your eyes are full of questions, deep wells of curiosity and wonder. You’ll be a mover and a shaker, no doubt.
Baby girl, I hope you never lose that spark.
The grown-ups will try to teach you things. They’ll teach you to color inside the lines, to stay in line. To wait your turn, to behave. They’ll teach you manners, how to dress and what to say. They’ll teach you your “place.”
Don’t let them take your wild, baby.
I hope you keep exploring, keep learning, keep trying to figure things out. I hope you always speak up when you want or need something without any regard for how others might perceive you.
I hope you keep taking risks, keep trying to do things before you’re ready. I hope you learn that fear can be a friend rather than a foe. I hope you keep reaching for things, keep struggling until you succeed.
I hope you make messes, make demands, make waves. Don’t listen when they tell you that good girls are quiet and well-behaved. “Good” is overrated, anyway.
I hope that you live for yourself and not to make others happy. I hope that you learn that your worth has nothing to do with your accomplishments or your productivity, despite how many compliments you may receive.
I hope you live big, live loud, live unashamed. I hope that you always see the world full of whimsy and magic and possibilities.
Keep striving. Don’t listen when they tell you that you can’t, because you’re a girl, because you’re too young, too small, too fill-in-the-blank. Prove them wrong.
Baby girl, I hope you always know that you’re enough, exactly as you are. The world feeds lies to women and girls to keep them from their potential, to keep them focused on petty things like thinness and makeup and the illusion of perfect. I hope you see past those lies, and set your gaze on those big beautiful dreams of yours.
Stay wild. Stay hungry.
You’re my Margo, my “pearl” as your name suggests, and the world is your oyster. Never forget it.
Give Me the Wild Children
give me the wild children
with their bare feet
and sparkling eyes.
the restless,
churning climbers.
the wild ones using their outside voices,
singing all the way home.
give me the wonder-filled, glorious mess makers
dreaming of mountains and mud,
aching to run through a field of stars.
-Nicolette Sowder, Wilder Child