So this is an easy one. Today, Megan turned 4 years old. She’s a spunky, full of life little thing who adds adventure and charm to our family. She will find any dirt or sandbox or mud puddle within a 2 mile radius and happily splash and squoosh and smear it all over herself. There is no such thing as keeping her shirts clean.
But she is funny. Witty, even. By the time she’s a teenager, she’ll have a wicked grasp of humor and sarcasm and, well, wit. For now, the tiny seeds are visible, and I’m trying not to train her too early towards my own (at times) lack of tact.
She is loving having the twins in school now, despite the summer’s meltdowns over the coming change. We play games. We cook together. She loves to point that “she’s the only kid” so she gets to do [fill in the blank]. Obviously, Timmy is completely discounted from her equation there, but she is right that I’m not going to let him dump the flour into the bowl. So as usual, she’s pretty much right!
Megan is hard to capture in words. And she’s a pusher. She grabs everything by the horns and will NOT let go. She is stubborn. She is strong-willed. She is smart. OH.MY.WORD. Smart. But she’s a snuggler. A needer of verbal affirmation. A tender-hearted little thing who just colors our world with wonder.
Happy Birthday, Megan. You are truly one of a kind.
