Four years

Devil -

At this exact moment 4 years ago, I was lying in my hospital bed thinking "You have got to be kidding me," while my OB/GYN called over yet another of the ten people at the foot of the bed saying "Come here, you have to feel this." Ah, the joys of giving birth in a teaching hospital. Twelve hours later I was sitting in a rocking chair in the middle of the night, trying to nurse you and getting distracted by the perfection that was your left foot. Who could have imagined that something so small and tiny and perfect had been lurking inside that big bump? Everything had changed in that short span of time, and even then I really had no idea how much the axis of my world had shifted.

This past year has been a challenging one, for so many reasons, but it has been so phenomenal at the same time. I looked in on you yesterday while you napped and laughed out loud - you had fallen asleep in mid-fidget, with your knees bent, and one leg propped over the other, just like you were leaning back waiting for the show to start. And I wondered where on earth you came from and what happened to that tiny baby?

In the past year you have just become such a fabulous, difficult, endearing, infuriating presence.

I think maybe part of the challenge for me is that we share some not-so-endearing traits that I have trouble dealing with in someone else. It's best if we don't speak to you in the mornings, and I am counting the days until you are old enough that CPS won't lock me up for feeding you coffee with your breakfast so that we can have a conversation without you snapping off someone's head.

Like me, if you are feeling a bit put out about anything whatsoever (aka Boo is looking at you and you want her to stop), you absolutely do not want to speak about it or interact with anyone - Greta Garbo has nothing on you kid.

But when you are in a good mood (or have gotten enough sleep!), you are one of the sweetest people I have ever known. You have a gift for defusing your sister's intractable tantrums, and will go out of your way to take care of her. You are fiercely protective of your family, and are not shy about drawing a line in the sand if you find it necessary.

You are a complete goofball, with a wicked sense of humor and an even wickeder smile.

And watching you run is watching pure joyful energy take flight.

Nothing has ever changed me so much as becoming your mother, sweetheart. Thank you.

Olive juice,