Oh pretty pretty Rylee

From the moment she was born, I thought she was pretty.
Her smile. Her smell. Her small hands griping my my finger.

She was pretty.

She is beautiful.

My husband has always called our daughter his "little pretty". He cherishes the word more I think because of her. As he would place a bow in her hair or a shirt over her body, he would remind her she was pretty.

When I brush her hair or place a dress over her head I say "oh rylee, so pretty", kiss her cheek and smile at her. I never thought for a second about the descriptive word. Just another word in my vocabulary.

The other morning I was folding laundry on our bed watching rylee twirl in my jammie shirt and place a necklace over her head. She stops mid twirling to look in the mirror and says "rylee pretty, pretty rylee". I freeze mid fold of ryans work shirts. What am I really teaching her? I smile at her and feel proud she is making sentences and building confidence.,

What does that word mean to her?
What made her think to say that word?
Am I over thinking this? --probably--
Am I giving her confidence in herself?

I bring her into my arms and sit on laundry to share what makes her pretty. She looks at me {half crazy} but listens intently. As if she knows I am trying my best to mend a booboo. She skiddadles away from my arms and I just sit staring at her. This little person twirling in my room will one day look at me for the right words to speak when her heart is broken, when a day at school is disastrous,  or when a request for curfew extension is turned down by daddy because her boyfriend drives a motorcycle.  {had to include ryans biggest fear}.

Have my spoken words have made her appearance or clothing matter? Or is she just learning to love her mirrored image. I know she doesnt have a grand understanding of the word but how do I make the beautiful descriptive word not physically important? Has my own low self esteem been brought to light? I always hope she will be brave like her father and do her best to have positive thoughts when she stands in front of a mirror. I have struggled so with self image and truly try to never let her see my biggest fault.

So I'll write and keep these words for that needed moment...

My dearest daughter,
I prayed for the birth of a healthy baby. You blessed our world on a rainy friday. 10 fingers and toes and a head of dark hair. You nestled on my chest and I felt my heart burst to a million pieces as a layer of protection around  your small body. You were beautiful. You became my daughter. 

We brought you home, driving as slow as we could, to protect you from your new world. I comforted your every need the best I knew how and loved you during those longs spurts of tears. I dressed you in clothes, I washed and folded with care and placed a bow on your head I waited so long to do. I told you how pretty you looked and how brave you were for choosing me as your mother.

You are my beautiful daughter. And one day you may not feel beautiful. You may not adorn diamonds or wear clothes that fit the social norm. Your hair may be a mess and your socks mismatched.  But you will always be pretty. It's your smile you share the moment I walk through the door. How you are so eager to share a hug or a kiss when my heart hurts. The way you laugh when you twirl holding my finger. How your giggle fills the wind blowing through your hair.

This makes you pretty.

Every please and thank, pleasant word, or nonverbal motion of kindness. Every time you share encouragement or offer help. When you show a brave face when fear could easily win. The moment you give love vs hate.

This makes you pretty.

As your mother and built in friend, I will always do my best to guide you and love you through any journey you travel on. And to remind you during the moments I find you most prettiest. Because moments of beauty are not always found in the mirror, sometimes they are found in the reflection of others.

Love, your mama

All that said, I can't make a promise I wont gush over her in her first prom dress or her wedding day. Because I will! But I have learned how we as mothers can glance at our children and look so deep. We see a beauty we hope they believe is most important and will radiate to others.