Can it be that you - my rosy-cheeked baby with the long lashes and rose-petal lips - are four?
Four seems perfectly ancient. You are so serious now, so wise, so angelically beautiful, so delightfully good. You no longer have the baby cheeks, the tiny voice.
You have blonde curly locks, falling around your face in perfect formation. Your penetrating blue eyes can be scalding or scintillating, depending on your mood. Your agile limbs are long and graceful. Your voice is strong, your mind is quick, and your vocabulary is extensive. You pick up on most everything we say now and you correct us if we say things that we shouldn't ("we don't say 'HATE!'").
You aim to please, but you also want to know why. You are suspicious of strangers, but you are a very loyal friend. You are easy to take most anywhere.
For the record...
Sweet girl. Little Beauty. You are my firstborn, my friend. Four years ago, you turned my world upside-down and brought colors into my life that startled me with their vibrancy.
I can't tell you how many times I look at you and my heart aches with pride. Just yesterday I told your dad, "She is one awesome kid." And - seriously - you are.
I love you. I love watching you dazzle the world and fill it with light.