This morning when you woke, you said to me "Mommy, you have to tell me Happy Birthday!"
And so I did, enthusiastically.
What can I tell you about the darling, delightful, happy, charming, sometimes capricious and and seldom petulant, little girl that is you.
Food. You are skeptical of food you haven't tried, and even skeptical of food you used to like. You don't like grilled cheese sandwiches and french fries, perhaps the only one of a million your age. You do like tofu, a decent amount of vegetables, including artichokes, broccoli, carrots, peas, and brussel sprouts. You will sometimes eat chicken, sometimes eggs, which you used to love, and now don't, and seldom any kind of beef, and never bacon. Chocolate is your sweet of choice, but you do ask first and sometimes challenge if you don't like the answer, but I've never seen you sneak candy when you thought I wasn't looking.
School. You love kindergarten. You love, love, love your teacher Miss Brooke, and Daddy and I do as well. We got extremely lucky in your kindergarten teacher, who considers you one of her favorites, even if she can't say that out loud. You are learning to read, and delighted when you can read whole short sentences. Sometimes you guess at words rather than sounding them out. You love math - we play games with adding, and after watching a lot of Schoolhouse Rock we've started playing multiplying games. We're doing a bit of subtraction and no division, as of yet.
Friends. Your two BFF's as of this writing are Perrine and Sufi. You want to write them letters when you're not at school, want play dates on the weekends, these are your friends and you are happy about that. Miss Brooke said you often make up games during recess - once you three were detectives searching for clues.
Last week was your spring break, and I decided to take spring break right along with you. We didn't do much outside the house or the city, except go to the Monterey Bay Aquarium with Daddy and Papa, where you loved all the activities involving pushing buttons. Personally, I liked the seahorses and jelly fish best, but you, it was all about the buttons.
You are still the smallest kid in your class, but your personality is ten feet tall. You are still shy around new people, and Daddy and I are asking that you at least acknowledge the many compliments you get with a "thank you" and greet someone new with "Hi." You're getting there, easing your way into social graces, and I am not going to cajole or force you far beyond your comfort zone.
You like playing with your barbies, but you also love your battery-operated train set. You told Daddy you wanted a basketball net for your birthday, after watching Daddy coach his boys' basketball team, not after watching our bracket fall apart in March Madness.
The other day you asked me how can you become a princess. One of your friends, evidently, wants to be a princess when she grows up. I replied, honestly, that either her mommy and daddy have to be the queen and king, or she has to marry a prince. Then I asked you, what do you want to be when you grow up?
A doctor. You replied. I asked whether you wanted to be a doctor for people or for animals, and you said animals. Okay, works for me, I thought, wondering what it would be next year. I'll have to remember to ask.
All in all, my love, you are the best little girl I could ask for, and I wouldn't trade you for anything. I can't believe it's been six years since you exited my body, and made your grand appearance in the world. I can still remember holding you in the hospital bed, singing "just call me angel, I'm your two AM angel..."
I love you sweetie, I love you one million. And that's a lot.
Mommy
