Seven years ago today, I was welcoming my second child. The one who had given me heartburn and ceaseless rib kicks and whom I was convinced was a boy.
But then she arrived. Another daughter, with a thick head of dark hair and the chubbiest cheeks. And also immediately starving. Little did I know that this was neither the first nor the last time that I would be meeting her never-ending nourishment needs…
She is the comedian – always being silly and saying things that crack us up – but quick to tears if she didn’t intend to be funny. She has the kindest, gentlest heart, the first to help you if you are injured or sick. Thank goodness she keeps a calm head, effectively balancing her sister’s tendency to overreact dramatically. She is grounded and laid-back, much more her father’s daughter in that regard. Her smile is infectious and seen often, and when she laughs hysterically it is a sound that is indescribably happy. She is fearless and tends to leap before looking, always the first one down the hill on her snowboard, laughing wildly as she showers me with snow at the bottom. She is a klutz and is well-known in the school office, with an ice pack ever-at-the-ready in case she should happen to smack head-first into a wall, since she prefers to walk forward while looking backwards. She hates ketchup and loves pickles, is always STARVING at bedtime and has been known to polish off two quarts of raspberries and half a cantaloupe as a light snack. She loves to draw and paint and can play for hours on her own, living in her imagination. She is the worst person to watch TV with, since she cannot sit still for a minute unless it is Animal Planet. She rocks her own stye and couldn’t care less if you think that stripes, flowers and paisley don’t go together – she is wearing that outfit! She taunts me with her hot-dog tongue and has never managed to control the impulse to stick it out at me when she is annoyed. Quick to apologize for any wrongs and the first to stick up for her sister (even if her sister is getting in trouble for bugging her), she is friends with everyone. She has a scowl that would melt stone and a pouty lip that she can quiver just perfectly to melt her Daddy. She brings laughter, comic relief and joy into our home and to our family each and every day. And even at seven, she is a tiny anchor who can bring us all back down when we lose sight of the humor of daily life.
I love you my Emery and I am proud of the girl you are growing into each and every day. Thank you for always bringing me a cool cloth when I have a headache and telling me to go to bed when I am tired.
Happy 7th birthday!
Mommy, Daddy, Brielle + Charlie xoxo
And of course, a photo for each of her last 7 years.
Birth. Our first family photo, taken minutes after her birth at home.
One. Piggy tails and a toothy grin.
Two. She never sat still long enough to get a focused photo.
Three. That smile.
Four. That crazy tongue makes an appearance.
Five. She is just pure sweetness most of the time…
Six. She CRACKS me up!
Seven. I am in awe of her. I can see her maturing every day and I feel so fortunate to be her mother.