Thursday, September 13, 2007
As my birthday quickly approaches, I still feel like a child. Not yet ready to grow up and face the world, not yet ready to believe this is it, quick to play all day and dream. Bluebells and cockle shells.
Here is a poem my mom wrote to me as I approached my third birthday:
Aimee Bree almost three and what a big girl you have grown to be.
Blue eyes and blonde hair, in my mind you are always there.
Running and laughing in the sun, it always looks like you are having so much fun.
Eating peanut butter and watching TV, oh how I wish that I was almost three.