Emie,

Well crap, I’m late with your birthday letter. Again. It’s your fault really, for being born in the middle of hurricane season and the start of school. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it and what a rough pregnancy you were, YOU should be writing ME birthday letters. Get on that will you?

So seven years and four days ago, a combination of your failure to thrive and my whining to my OB resulted in you showing up at 3:09 pm, (after a little help from Pitocin.) You were by far my easiest labor, which I really appreciate but kinda of feel like you owed me after being so difficult for the proceeding nine months.

Since that day seven years ago, I have to be honest and admit, you’ve kinda been a joy and much easier than the boys. (Don’t tell them I said that.) Now I don’t want you to get the big head and think that you are without the drama. You are way more sensitive than ANY cherub I’ve ever seen and extremely fearful of new activities, and especially pain. Going to the dentist is usually an apocalyptic event.

Your seventh birthday is a prime example of that. This is the year that you decided that you were ready to pierce your ears. So after much arm twisting and a few out and out WWE events, we got your father’s permission to proceed. I picked both you and the male cherub up from school and headed straight to the mall and the new Build a Bear Workshop. Yep, we finally got one and almost 70 dollars and a camo bear and girlie bunny rabbit later, headed over to Libby Lu’s to do the deed. Only the Libby Lu’s in the mall has since closed, and I knew that I was testing you and you failed.

So after re-grouping, and being joined by your father, we headed to Clair’s and attempt number one to pierce your ears. Things went fine through the whole sterilization and ear marking period, but then you wouldn’t let the girl near your ears with the gun. It’s actually funny to look at your little face fall in the pictures. Fast forward through three more tries of sterilizing everything, and then crying when she comes near you with the gun, and then crying because you really want your ears pierced, but are too scared, add in a trip to the bathroom and watching another little girl get her’s done and then SUCCESS. Whew, that wasn’t really that bad was it? Wait, don’t answer that, the pictures say it all. Like I said, drama.

WHA WHO, we are doing this!

Marking the spot.

Second thoughts.

Still haven’t pierced.

SUCCESS, but wait, you have TWO ears.

You can do this!

Aw, done and suckers make EVERYTHING better.

You are still telling everyone you meet that you got your ears pierced. Which is fine because your father is still rocking in the corner because you got your ears pierced.

We wrapped up the seven extravaganza with ten of your closest friends at the roller rink and a Janell Cake!

We might have gone a little over board this year to due our friend Gustav stealing your birthday last year. This is compounded by the fact that I that I try to keep birthdays low key every other year, to save my sanity. (Odd years, because most major milestones occur on even years and it keeps the big hoop-las of you and your brother on opposite years. In theory any way.) So you were low key for five, and had six snatched right from you little hands. To add insult to injury, I got to do all the work and planning for six, it just never happened. Okay, so I’m not really sure who is more bitter about that.

So that about wraps up the seven extravaganza. Of course we will do this again next year because you will turn eight and will be baptized. Barring any hurricane activity in the Gulf, of course. That’s always a possibility because someone decided early September was a good time to make her entrance into the world. I won’t mention any names though.

I guess I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how incredibly bright you are. You continue to thrive in the gifted program and are now reading on a fifth grade level. You are rawking the second grade with much better conduct reports. You have only gotten four X’s this years. You could do that in under a week last year. I hope it keeps up.

You continue to enjoy being everyone and their brother’s best friend. You still enjoy TV more than anyone else in the family, okay, maybe I give you a run for your money. You read even more than last year and now enjoy chapter books. Your room continues to be a struggle for you, you may in fact be lost to a land slide in there one day. But most of all, you still give the best hugs on the planet. I defy the world to find a better huger. Go head and just try.

Emie, I love you and I’m so lucky to have the front row seat as you continue to grow into the charming, beautiful, smart person that you are. I’m going to close now before I get too mushy, but just know that I honestly believe that you will one day rule the world and I’m happy that I can say ‘hey, I know her’. Thank you for letting me being your mom, I can’t imagine doing anything better. I love you best.

Hugs and Kisses,
Mom