Thursday, April 29, 2010

Dear Emory,

You are a nut.  I love that about you.  With one breath you announce, "I am Sleeping Beauty." and demand that we all refer to you by the name Aurora.  In the next breath you'll tell me the rules of a new game you invented called Fishing in the Potty.  You've watched workmen fell trees in our yard, entranced by the buzz of the chainsaw, and when you've had enough of that ask to go inside to paint our fingernails.  I have never been able to figure you out, which is so much fun.

You love your baby brother and no one can make him laugh as hard as you can.  You're so cool.  For the most part, you enjoy him.  Except for when he touches your stuff.  I hate to tell you, Baby, but this is the easy part.  Just wait until he starts crawling.  Enjoy it now.  Your favorite activity is Feed the Baby, which you've discovered keeps Mama distracted from the fact that you are not eating.  You're so sly.

I've recently noticed how very attuned to details you are.  I can't tell yet if this is part of your personality that will stay with you, or if it is because you aren't as distracted by life as I am.  Yesterday when we were at the zoo, I asked if you wanted to see the hippos and you corrected me, "There is only one hippo, Mommy.  You said hippos."  You're so smart. 

Your life is a muscial.  When you want more juice, you sing it.  When you are putting on your socks and shoes, you sing out each step of completing the task, "First you put on this sock, then that sock.  Then goes on this shoe, and that shoe."  You love the silly songs I make up to make mundane activities a trifle more fun, and nothing gets your blood pumping more than a family dance party.  You've got soul.

You crave "schoolwork" and anything else that smacks of being big.  I've had to start printing out worksheets for you to do and you're completely pumped that they say K5 on them.  You love the fact that you wear 4T clothing, even though you are only 3.  You are troubled at night by growing pains in your legs, but in the morning you think it's cool that you had them again since it means you're getting taller.  You're so independent.

I am so glad you're our girl.  I'm glad we get to be your parents.  I try to remember to tell you this several nights a week as we put you to bed.  And by the way, when we sing your songs at night you love to have your back "tickled".  I love this since you usually shun any kind of cuddle.  One night, a couple of weeks ago, as I tucked you in I kissed you and told you, "I'm so glad God chose us to be your family."  To which you replied, "Because I do so many cute things?"  Baby, that doesn't even scratch the surface as to why I'm glad you're my kid.

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