Happy Birthday, my sweet Gracie

Dear Grace,

Today, we celebrate you.  Four years of you.  My, how you have grown, learned, adventured, and taught.  You are a beautiful little girl now, no longer a toddler.  I hold on to a few of your words, as they are the only things left that makes you seem like a young toddler.

I love "muddles puddles".

I love "meggory round". (merry go round)

I love "find a my glass". (magnifying glass)

I love "veering room".  (living room.

I love "yote-meal".  (oatmeal)

Everything else about you seems so grown up to me.   I see you interpreting everything you have learned over the course of four years...movement, sound, art and I constantly ask myself, "How do I save this forever?".  I don't want to lose this energy and sense of wonder that you show us each day.  So, I constantly convince myself that soaking up the moment and enjoying every last detail is the best way I know how...along with many pictures and boxes of your art. There are many musings that are unique to you at this tender age of four.  The way you stick  your tongue out when you are running around with hysterical laughter or concentrating on your coloring.  The way you ask many questions as to how things work and why they work.  The way you stand back and observe each new adventure we go on before you participate.  The way you try to negotiate your way out of everything.  They way you come downstairs at least six times between your bedtime and our bedtime to say that you want your pink spoon for breakfast or to tell us to have a good sleep or to say your water is too warm on your nightstand.  The way you describe the shapes of your poop as if you're looking at clouds, "that looks like a duck!".  How you request the tag of your pink blanket in the upper right hand corner each night.  How you order the 1200 pound horses around when we clean stalls together.  I also adore gardening with you.  You love to weed and you love to correct me when I've missed one. 

 You enjoy baking with me and always feel it's necessary to properly prepare with our aprons and your chef hat.  You've also taught me that, "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit!'.  (Thanks to preschool for that one.)  You are the little girl that wants to be so grown up.  You always ask questions prefaced with, "can we do that someday?". 

 Lately, you can't wait to grow up so you can clean the kitchen up.  It's really not all it's cracked up to be, sweetie.  Right now, you are four.  Right now, your dad and I are so in love with who you are and we will wait for you to grow up.  Someday, we want you to know both oceans, to camp on the top of a mountain, and to experience the beauty of our National Parks.  But, for now, and most importantly, I want year four to be filled with memories of peanut butter sandwiches under our chestnut tree, running barefoot through the pasture, and picking flowers around the yard to fill up your wheelbarrow.  Really,  your only job right now is to walk down our stairs in the morning with the excitement of the day bursting at your seams. 

Happy Birthday sweet one.

We are madly in love with you.

July 19, 2007

July 19, 2008

July 19, 2009

July 19, 2010