Monkey, you were such a little peanut when you were born.
And, oh, how we loved you. Love you.
You love to smile. Your favorite color is purple.
You love to pose for pictures.
You love to read. And you love the Steelers.
You love your sister. (Still!)
You love school. (We knew you would.)
You love special time with your Mommy. Which she loves.
You are all legs, just like your Mommy. I look at pictures from a year ago, and I see how the roundness in your face has left. You are a girl. A little girl, still, but not a baby. Not even a toddler. A girl.
You love, a lot. You are loved a lot. The other night, as Daddy was putting you to bed, you said to him, “You love me.” Daddy agreed. He does love you! He asked, “Who else loves you?”
“Mommy,” you said. “And Bun. And Bella and Tadone. And Nonna and Pap-pap.” And after a short pause, you added, “And I love myself, too.” That’s probably something I will have to remind you about when you are older.
That and the time you stood in the toilet.
Happy 4th Birthday, Monkey. I love you.
Mommy