A Birthday Letter

Dear S,

Nine years ago today, you were born into our family, rounding out our little Brady Bunch and tying us even closer together. You were 9 pounds, 5 ounces, and it felt good to hold you because you fit so well in my arms, especially because you were no longer stretching my ribcage and hips out. When Dad held you for the first time a little after you were born, the nurse gave him a 2 oz. bottle, telling us to see if you'd be willing to eat anything, that sometimes newborns drank a bit. Within about 2 minutes that bottle was empty! You knew what you wanted and got it, even then.

You are such a unique person in our family. I remember when you were first learning to talk, all you could say so far was Mommy, Daddy, and hi. I'd ask you, "Who am I?" You'd say, "Daadddy!" in your little teasing voice and then you'd laugh and laugh at your own joke. Then Dad would act all shocked and say, "But who am I then?" and you'd say, "Mooommy!" You were a tease, and you still enjoy teasing us, and your brother. And Chewie.

A few things I hope you never get tired of doing with me:

Painting & drawing
Telling each other made-up Wormy stories at bedtime
Reading books
Going on walks
Shopping at Michael's
Kisses and hugs
Taking photos of Chewie
Making faces in the mirror
Talking at each other upside down, and pretending our mouths are right-side-up.
Playing in the water and sand at the beach.

And our favorite, making up silly games to play while we do chores, like our game with the sheets on the bed: lifting the sheet high like a parachute, then jumping on the bed while it floats back down, and trying to bellow out "Ground control to Major Tom" before the sheet hits us! That game rocks. You've been begging me to wash the sheets again, and I think I know why! I can't wait to make up even more fun games together.

We are alike in many ways too. We both are afraid of swimming in water above our heads. Maybe we should take some private swimming lessons together to get over our fears. Bright sunshine hurts both of our blue eyes, although yours are way more blue. Ice blue. I love your eyes. We love going to the theater and eating popcorn through the whole movie. We both hate shopping, but understand that it's a necessary evil sometimes. We love to be cheesy. It's a real gift, you know. Isn't it almost time to cut another orange up and use the peel wedges for fake teeth again? We both get headaches when chaos is around us. We get exasperated at the men in our house at the same time.

Your teacher told us how refreshing it was to see a student your age who is not concerned with what others think of her. I know you get this from Dad, and I'm so glad you have that gift. Stay true to who you are, and don't worry about what anyone else thinks of you. You have an inner peace that many of us strive for and never really find.

I want you to always be happy with who you are, and remember that I will love you forever and ever, even when you're an old lady and I'm a really old lady.