Dear Emma Kate,
Oh, my precious, cuddly, Emma Katherine. You did it! You reached "fow-uh" years old! You had your princess party that was pink, and purple, and sparkly, and included all your favorite things: Snow White, spaghetti, brownies, and presents. I was so proud when you remembered to say thank you to your guests. That is just one way that you are mature for your age. Now, don't get me wrong, you love to pitch a good fit, and you can hold your own in a whining contest. But, during those times, I have to remind myself that it's normal four year old behavior, or maybe I just pray it's normal.
What a year this has been for you. Your sass has been brought to the forefront. I think it's safe to say that no one will run over you. I just know in my heart of hearts though, that trait will pay off in the long run. My mama's heart wants to believe that when you are in fourth grade, or seventh, or tenth, that your sass will see you through to stand up to peer pressure and make good choices.
This year, you went to the beach for the first time, attended your first cheer camp, learned how to swim without floaties, and started preschool! You are soaking in all you can learn at school, and even love to read along with Grace as she practices her kindergarten reading. You love school and want to know why you can't go every day like Grace. You love pink, sleeping in my bed, Adele, flip flops, and lip gloss.
Your best friend is your sister. You two fight hard and love hard. You aren't quite yourself when she's not around. And, you are protector of your brother. You make sure he doesn't climb where he isn't supposed to and make sure I thoroughly apply his diaper cream.
Precious Girl, you are one of a kind. You know how to push my buttons - the ones that make me growl and the ones that make me melt. You are opinionated, hilarious, and an awesome little helper. You love to help in the kitchen cooking and doing dishes. You are a super washcloth folder and diaper getter. You are the spitting image of your daddy. Your capable little hands amaze me. Your not so quiet singing voice is music to my ears. Your smile can light up a room. Your laugh is infectious.
I hope you love being four and all the experiences this year brings to you. I hope you never change, that you never stop being "you".
I love you a bushel and a peck,
Mama
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