Two!

Amelia Gray,

2 years old. Two years with the love of our lives, and when I say "our," I mean all five of us ... it's not just Daddy's and my hearts that you own; it's your brothers', too. They seem to live to breathe the same air with you, and it's the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

Of course, I worry that we're turning you into a monster. You never have to do anything for yourself, and from the age of about five months, anytime you've ever done anything new, you turn around and look for applause. Like, literal applause. Because there are always five people there waiting to clap for your your newest accomplishment. Took your first steps? Applause! Tried a new food? Applause! Sneezed? APPLAUSE!

Of course, there's an upside to being worshiped ... you have a very pleasant disposition. You are sweet, gentle, kind and polite. When Nathaniel burps, you say, "Scooz ooh." And when I sneeze, you say, "Bess ooh." When you ask a member of your "court" to hand something to you and they comply, you say, "Sank ooh" ... and do you know what all of this means? It means that we have a lot of fake burping, farting, sneezing and "Amelia, do you need such-and-such?" in our house. Because everyone wants to hear you say cute things. Reee-donkulous.

I can't tell you about yourself without talking about Scout ... your "kih-kat," "Scoutie," "Scow-boo" ... he's your very best friend, and you are his. If he's ever more than four feet away from you, you're wandering through the house, calling his name. You push and pull him, you nuzzle him, head butt him, pet him, snuggle with him ... and he loves you so much. You are the constant companion he's been looking for all his life, and I love you for giving him your friendship in his twilight years. What a gift you are to each other. Thank you, my sweet, sweet girl.

Thank you, also, for picking up microscopic pieces of paper off the floor and throwing them in the trashcan. For closing the pantry door when the boys leave it open. For putting the pillows back on the couch when they've been pushed to the floor in a frenzy. For righting the trashcan in the den when it's been knocked over during a wrestling match. For pushing the silverware drawer closed when it's been left hanging open by hooligans.

Because it is those things that remind me that THERE IS FINALLY MORE ESTROGEN IN THE HOUSE. You and I, Amelia Gray, we are a team. And we always will be. 

I love all your parts. I love that you still have dimples for knuckles. I love that you have girlish blue eyes and rosy-red cheeks. I love that you can name all of your body parts and then the corresponding parts on my body -- even eyebrows! And I won't even hold it against you that a few weeks ago you pointed to your chin and then pointed to my chin and said, "Mommy's chin!" -- And then pointed a little lower and said "ANOTHER MOMMY'S CHIN!" I'm gonna let that slide. Because I love you.

I know I've told you this before, but I have to say it again ... I didn't know I needed a daughter. But God did. He knew I needed you. You, specifically, were meant for me, and I for you. You complete me, and you complete our family, in a beautiful way.

Love,
Mommy