Jules.
Wolf Pup.
Wolfie.
Chicken.
Princess Chickenary.
Chicky.
Lil' Bouth.
Jules Verne.
Gordis.
Pansitas,
Morris,
Moristqueta,
Loba,
Lobita
and a million other names you have so lovingly been given over these last years; each bestowed with an immeasurable amount of love by those around you.
How could I ever have imagined that I could be as equally exhausted as I was alert? To never again sleep a full night (as the nights are long for you) yet wake up refreshed, happy to see you are happy, alive, well, loved and growing?
How could I remember days of my prior life without editing you into those few wispy fragments of time? How could I have imagined that all I have learned and loved and experienced would help make me the person who teaches you about life?
What an unbelievable time to begin to remember. For five years, I have been on survival mode; feeding, changing, cleaning, washing, fixing, timing, measuring, teaching, praising, correcting, HOPING to just keep you alive and well. I can almost relax... a little.
You have become quite the young lady; such a wise, caring, thoughtful girl, so full of questions and with a ready heart. You are curious and cautious and stubborn to the core- like dada. (I love you for that.)
You are silly and smart and creative (I would hope like me, but dad is all of those too).
All of these years I have been storing such wonderful memories of you. You have had quite a few adventures! Forgive me for holding them back; it has been a long time since I had time.
I know last night I told you about the day my water broke and we knew you were coming. I'll write it down so that we don't forget (though one never forgets the day they became something great).
To you, my little Wolf, my tiny pup, my beautiful girl-
Thank you for giving me life.
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