Four

To my little girl:

May reminds me of babies. My babies.

And while it's a whirlwind of birthday celebrations in just two weeks, if anyone can keep up, it's you.

You are a ball of energy, a spitfire, a spunky little thing that goes and goes until you finally give in at the end of the day, snoring like your daddy.

Your favorite color is purple, a color you requested for your own bedroom (currently the nursery-slash-playroom). I know you will be a big girl indeed when you are ready for your own room. You went from sleeping between mommy and daddy to sleeping in the same room as your brother, as you did not think fondly of the crib. You like to be in the thick of things, surrounded by people, even as you sleep.

You love playing dress up, usually in the fringy, frilly dance costumes handed down by your cousins. You toss tutus and scarves and bathing suits across the floor until you've assembled the perfect outfit, then clomp down the stairs in tap shoes to show off.

And while you sometimes look like a princess, you relish getting dirty. You hang upside-down from monkey bars, make fairy houses out of twigs and leaves, and walk around cradling earthworms in your tiny hands. You throw a baseball like a cannon and blurt out "burp!" and "fart!" simply to be funny.

You are fiercely independent and test our patience with your will. And, oh, tough as nails. You hardly protest when you get a shot or when mommy has to dig splinters out of your dirty feet. You were born with a broken elbow, always have skinned knees and your smile shows off a blackening front tooth from smashing into a pole at the playground.


From the moment you jumped feet-first into the world, life has never, ever been dull. My lovely, you are a blast.

I love you,
Momma