Sometimes I feel blue when I think about the things I cannot do for or with my Sweetie.
I've never been able to carry her and have only been able to easily stand up and hold her in place when she was an infant.
I'm not able to run with her, or skip, hop, or gallup.
I can't even easily dance her silly dances with her that she so loves to do.
I can't play outside alone with her, for fear she'll run off.
Likewise, we can't go shopping alone together, or any other extra curricular activity without other, familiar adults around.
I'll not be able to teach her to ride a bicycle, roller skate or ice skate.
But, mostly, I'm alive and happy, thrilled to realize all that I am able to do for and with her.
I can stoop down to her level and squeeze her tight if she needs comforting.
I'm able to sit and rock with her in my arms - and I typically soothed her infant cries more successfully than anyone else, sitting, rocking and humming softly in her ear.
I can play my own version of piggy back ride with her - me crouched down low on all fours, she on my back and we bounce, bounce, bounce to a simple tune I sing.
I'm able to bathe her on my own.
I can tuck her in tight in her big girl bed, doling out big hugs, kisses and wishes for sweet dreams.
We can go visiting on our own, to the houses of friends and family.
Most of all, I'm able to love her with all my heart, all my soul, all my being. She is the joy in my life, and the light in my day.
I'm thankful every second of every day for the loving, sweet, curious, vibrant, silly, adorable little lady I'm privileged to call my daughter.