Today’s the day I’m going to pause just to watch you laugh a little longer . . . feel your hand in mine and notice today your grip’s a little stronger.
Today’s the day I’m going to notice the things you notice. Choose to see the way you see.
I’ll be interested in the things you like. Cheer as you ride a bit further on that squeaky trike.
Kiss your knee after you fall and remember how just yesterday I watched you crawl.
Today’s the day I’ll try to ask as many questions about your world as you ask about mine. I’ll slow down a bit to chase you instead of time.
Today’s the day I’m going to smell your hair and the adventures of your day as you’re drifting off to sleep.
Today’s the day I’ll hold the moments—these priceless treasures I’ll keep.
Today’s the day I’ll listen . . . to all your joys and aches. Hang on every word you say as you recount the magic of your day.
You might cry and I might, too. It might be messy and it might get loud, but at least I’ll do it all with you.
Soon today will be gone, so I’ll let it linger on. The days are getting quicker, and my heart can’t quite keep up. So I’ll freeze the little moments—you roaring through the house with that red fire truck.
Today’s the day I’ll laugh and smile and remember it’s all a breath . . . birthday candles to blow, wonderlands in the snow . . . dreaming of all the places you’ll go, but just know . . .
Today I’ll hold you tightly. Today I’ll wipe your tears. Today we’ll chase the dragons and conquer childhood fears. We’ll laugh and sigh and wonder why an elephant has big ears.
We’ll study shapes of clouds and stars and wonder what’s far away.
You light up my heart, and I want to give you a part of the joy you bring today.
Today’s the day I have you close, and it’s all so very sweet.
Today’s the day I’ll remember, and today’s the day I’ll repeat.