Wow. I promise to never ever be (this) late in posting your birthday letter. I have a lot of excuses, but I'm not going to waste my time. It all comes down to I didn't get it done when I should have.
But that doesn't mean I forgot your birthday! I risked my life just to be there for your party!
As I was driving up to Newton, your dad called me. "What are you doing?"
"I'm on my way. Why am I late?" I asked.
"No. The tornado sirens went off and everyone freaked out."
"Um. Am I driving into danger?"
Turns out the storms weren't a big deal in our area. But boy does Mother Nature love to celebrate your birth in a weird way!
You have amazed me yet again this past year. I believe you may be the second smartest kid who ever lived. The first, of course, being yours truly. On your birthday you and I chatted away. You told me all about your day and your sister and your cousins and how your favorite color is red. And your necklace is beautiful. And where is Evan?
Evan. It's always about how much you love Evan.
It just seems crazy to me that you have such a large vocabulary and understand so much. You're even aware of politics!
At dinner one night, you pointed to the television. "Look! It's Obama!"
You're very concerned about Sadie. You're even teaching her to talk. You're quick to tell your family you love them, even when you're not looking for something in return.
Of course you have a naughty mean streak in you. Sometime before I arrived to your party, you had bitten your mom.
"Sophia! Did you bite your mother?!?" I asked.
Your face turned downward and pouty. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I bit her! I won't do it again! I promise! I won't bite her again!"
You were so remorseful and sad, I felt bad. So I laid off, even though I know you'll most likely do it again.
But it's hard to see you sad because you're so much fun when you're happy! In Target a few weeks ago, I was pushing you and Sadie in the cart. You two were squealing with delight and then you suddenly broke out into song. The Spongebob Squarepants theme song. At the top of your lungs. I probably should have been embarrassed but I laughed.
On your birthday, your mom, sister and I joined you for a dance party. Which was fun. But darlin' . . . we need to talk about your dance moves. You're not allowed to move your hips like that until you're thirty.
I keep talking about things we did on your birthday. Because I had an exceptionally good time with you that night. Apparently, you had been pretty naughty and in a bad mood before I arrived. Everyone noticed a change in your attitude when I showed up.
You always turn my mood to good, too!
Hope you're enjoying your third year!
(A Very Late) Happy Birthday!