Ryen's Room

Sometimes I think about Ryen and picture in my mind that little baby girl with fiery red hair and drool all down her shirt... my Droolia Roberts... my Snugglebug... my little Stinkerbell. She is growing up before my eyes- and constantly reminding me that she is anything but a baby. She is wise beyond her years and independent beyond anything I dared to be at her young age. These four years have flown by. It is my instinct to mourn their passing, but it is hard to remain sad as my mind overflows with her priceless souvenirs. The space in my mind and in my heart that keeps a record of my days is sweetly filled with an abundance of my Ryen. The sweet and the hilarious, the delightfully unexpected, the dramatic, the tender, the excruciatingly humiliating. Oh, how I have loved the minutes, days, and years of my life that have been filled with this precious child. The past four years have been a comedy of errors- a journey of love and discovery. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for our little princess. How blessed I am to be the mother of this beautiful, smart, strong, hilarious, imaginative, talented, wise, creative, loving, silly, exuberant, sensitive, perfect... four-year-old. Happy birthday Ryen Olivia!