Kaitlyn is my oldest, at five, and already entering her rebellious stage. Oh goody.

You stare at me with defiant
eyes, blue but not like mine,
and I reminisce about that
beautiful, fragile infant
So precious, hanging by
a tenuous thread to her life.
Whispers echoed that you'd
leave me, not make it through,
you were but a tiny flame
waiting to be extinguished.
But you never listened ( even then ).
Tiny fighter, so vivacious, you
blossomed, grew against all odds,
into the willful child before me.
You amaze me always
How strong, how stubborn,
so vibrant and full of zest.
No one can stop you, there's
nothing you can't do or
won't try once ( or more ).
And though devil horns
may tilt the halo atop your
golden hair, I'll always see
the child who fought to live.