Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Emily is Turning One!

Emily is turning one on Friday!  This is where I lament the speedy passing of time, as I utter aloud a disbelief in the time space continuum.  Her birthday follows Andy's last day of kindergarten and Alex's last day of three year old preschool.  It's going to be an emotional 48 hours (followed by a long summer of splitting up fighting children).

Who is this Emily girl at twelve months old?  Well, her likes include Italian food, wood chips, banging at my computer keyboard, patty-cake, and waving hello and good-bye backwards. She walked earlier than her two brothers, starting off her 11 month birthday by taking a few tentative steps and almost running just under a month later.  She is attracted to danger and will eagerly climb the stairs and express an ill-placed confidence in being able to navigate going down the stairs (or up the bunk bed ladder).

Emily adores her big brothers.  She is perfectly content just to be near them, and she seems to save her biggest smiles just for them.  When Andy gets off the bus at the end of the day, she squeals in delight and initiates the backwards hello wave.  Whatever they are doing, she wants to be part of it. She digs eagerly in the sand next to them at the park and hovers around them in the family room when they're getting in their screen time.  She giggles at pretty much everything they do and gets upset when they leave the room.  At night, when I give her a bottle, she cranes her neck to look back towards the door, and I know she is wondering what they are up to, where they have been, if there's maybe another little baby in their life that she needs to be concerned about.

Emily is emotional.  Perhaps that's the girl baby part that I didn't get with the boys, but she cries so much more easily and seems to take things more personally than the boys ever did as babies.  If you raise your voice, she cries.  If she needs you and you do not come quickly, the cry is a soulful song of loss and sorrow.  Her face wrinkles up into sadness very quickly if things do not go her away.  If she had the language and physical capability to pen deep dark poetry, I believe she would.  It definitely would not rhyme.

Emily is beautiful.  Perhaps I am biased.  Unfortunately, we've spent half the year battling an unsightly eczema patch on her cheek, for which the doctor half-heartedly prescribed time and some lotion.  Of course, even with her little strawberry kiss of irritation, she is gorgeous, with hazel eyes, wheat colored hair, an infectious smile, and perfectly proportioned features.  If she does not pursue the writing of deep dark poetry, perhaps she can take up modeling.  I don't think one usually does both.

Emily completes this family, filling in the puzzle as a piece that we didn't know was missing.  Of course, I had an inkling that we weren't yet a finished picture, which is why she's ultimately here.  But, truly, she provides balance to this family and is the perfect little sister to two big brothers who need her.  She is every beautiful cliche of a baby girl.  Daddy's little princess.  Mommy's little sweetheart.  The pink- tinted shadow that follows around the boys.  I love you so much, Emily, and while I'm so profoundly sad that my last baby is turning one, my heart is so full with the happiness you've given me.  Happy birthday, sweet girl.  I apologize in advance that the gift I bought you was five dollars at Dollar General.  I promise this is not the beginning of you always getting short-changed.  I hope.


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