I looked at you while you were sleeping this morning and was floored by your face. Even though you're six, I could see the same cheeks I stroked when you were an even littler nibble in your crib. So beautiful, so adorable, so peaceful, even while you were pursing your lips with your eyes still closed and making the grumpus face that usually greets me when I wake you up in the morning. That's okay, that face happens to be really cute. You still rock my world.
When you were three years old, we decided that because you are so awesome, one of you wasn't enough. While I am sad that we haven't been able to bring another awesome kid into our home, you never make me sad. The last three years have felt like an endless treadmill (one day I will show you what a treadmill is and why I think it's so lame). Trust me on this, a treadmill because I don't appear to get anywhere new.... but wow, you're the one who is on a true journey. You're reading, dancing, puzzling, drawing, fashionista-ing, and driving Princess to find new and inventive hiding places each day, with your boundless energy and enthusiasm. I am happy to see that you have narrowed down your former troupe of imaginary siblings to just one, Marina, your younger sister. Far more manageable. I especially like how you try to teach Marina "nice" behavior and roll your eyes when she acts the way imaginary four year olds do.
You're Mommy's favorite girl. I love you when you don't clean your room. I love you when you throw a tantrum over a pair of leggings. I love you even when I am telling you to get in the bathtub twenty-seven times in a row and threatening to give your toys away to needy children who listen to their parents.
I can sense your confusion at why Mommy is always taking one form of "medicine" or another.... Yes, that "tea" I grimaced down this morning in my favorite mug was really gross, and yes, I have to drink all of the packets of tea that arrived in that box in order to get better. Yes, my tummy often hurts every few months, and sometimes I need to go into my room and rest in the dark for a few hours. But I want you to know that your smile makes all of the pain go away.