Claire Bidwell Smith

Dear Veronica,

And now you are two.

The day you were born feels like yesterday and also a lifetime ago. I scarcely remember the young woman I was before I became a mother, the life I led before there was you to lead it for me. Two years. Twenty-four months. 730 days filled with more love than I know what to do with.

You become yourself a little more every single day. Your ability to communicate with me and your father has changed everything. “Get up, Mama,” you say in the morning. “What are you having?” you ask when I inquire what you’d like for lunch. “Where are we going?” you want to know when we stick you in the car for the millionth time this week. “Two years,” is your answer when I ask how old you are now.

We moved to California just over a week ago, marking an end to your time in Chicago. It wasn’t an easy move — it was a long time in the making — and it’s still not quite over, all of our lives still in a state of flux. Nonetheless, this move will forever be part of your narrative. When people ask where you grew up you’ll say, “I was born in Chicago, but my parents moved to Los Angeles when I was two.”

I hope this new life is good for you. Your dad and I came here with hopes of thriving even more as creative individuals and it goes without saying that we both promise to put you first, to make sure your life is full of wonderful people and caring environments, creative stimulation and more inspiration than you’ll even know what to do with.

You’ve been a sport so far, adjusting to our rustic mountain house with aplomb and greeting the revolving cast of daily visitors with sweet hellos and bashful smiles. You have new friends already and your second birthday party was well-attended with all of my old friends, driving up the mountain all to say hello and see how much you’ve grown. You ate strawberries with Izzie and dug into the silly mermaid cake I made for you, and I felt like my own mother, could hear it in my voice.

Kid, I don’t even know how to tell you how much I love you. I’m not sure you’ll ever truly know. Maybe if you have your own children one day you’ll get an inkling. For now just know that I couldn’t be prouder of the beautiful little person you are. Thank you for all that you’ve given me.

Love,

Mom

More party pictures here.