yesterday i was sitting out on the back porch of my parents house with you. you wanted to walk off the side of the porch–confidently moved your thick, awkward baby legs to the edge and stepped off every time. i held your arms, pulled you back. most of the time it made you angry–you sat down and let out an ear-piercing squeal. you “planked”, stiffening your little body on the weathered boards of the deck, letting me know just how displeased you were with me.
i learned at your church dedication that your name together could mean “vibrant warrior” and though we named you for the melody of your name, i think that it fits. you are my feisty, strong-willed child, sure of what you want, confidently jumping in head first where your sister would always use caution.
and when i compare the both of you–since sisters are always inevitably compared–know that it isn’t comparing in a better-than-the-other but rather admiring the beautiful differences i see already in my two little girls–the individual artwork of your souls. it is true, yes, that your sister made me into a mother–no small feat!–but you, junie maroonie, have remade me into a mother again, and i don’t take those changes lightly.
i thank God for you everyday, and for what he teaches me through you about His love for us. if my imperfect, human love for you can feel so big sometimes that i feel i could burst from it, how much more does He love us. i want to teach you how much you are loved.
thank you my sweet second born for a beautiful first year–it was sometimes very hard but it was always very good. what an exciting thing to await us–another year of june.