Today is your birthday, my pretty girl. Although we’re not celebrating until this weekend, so you think it’s just another day. I don’t know why it’s so hard to celebrate birthdays on the actual day in this family, but apparently it is.
I know what day it is, though. Today, my baby is 4 years old.
Next year you start kindergarten. Then the year after that you’ll be driving off to college. Or that’s how it seems. You want to do everything yourself, even when you shouldn’t. You like to tell me, “But I’m getting bigger!”, and that you are, a bit more every day. Though you’re not as big as you think. Especially when you start talking about boyfriends, which you only know about because you’ve discovered iCarly.
Whether you want to believe it or not, however, you are still always my baby.
You love animals. One of your favorite ways to play these day is when you pretend to be a cat. Then, there’s a stuffed toy you have, it’s a sheep, but you call it your puppy. That puppy has an entire puppy family that you must sleep with every night. But you also like to take away whatever toy your brothers are playing with, and you’re rather indignant when they refuse. You truly are the boss of them.
Though I’ve also seen how protective you are of your brothers. When you’re all good together, you’re so very good.
But you are the smartest, sweetest little girl. If I’m on the couch, you’ll scoot yourself next to me even when there’s not much room and ask me to lie down. Then we’ll snuggle there, my arm around your small frame, your wild curls tickling my nose. Being with you is one of the brightest parts of my day. You are my best girl with the biggest smile.
Happy Birthday, sweetheart.