A Letter To Daniel

Dear Daniel,
Three years ago, you surprised us.  We had a girl name all picked out, and in your first act of defiance, you came out and left us scurrying to find a name.

You've been marching to the beat of your own drum ever since.

You work hard to fulfill your role as baby.  Your sisters have doted on you since day one and will all three bend over backwards to help you get into most anything it is you want to get into.  You've got Sarah Grace wrapped tightly around your finger and frequently call her name first thing in the morning, causing her to gleefully grin.  Elizabeth babies you every chance she gets and Anna is your favorite trouble buddy.

And then there's Thomas.  The bond the two of you share is like nothing I've ever seen.  When you're sick, he pulls you up and reads to you.  When he's mowing the lawn, you trail behind him with your bubble mower.  You do your level best to follow and go and mimic whatever he does and he slows down to allow you to catch up and even take the lead.

You keep your Daddy and I laughing - even when we have to bite our lips to not laugh out loud because we don't want to encourage you in some of your less desirable (but still comical) antics.  You are quick with hugs and love and slow to go to sleep, making for some amazing cuddles. 

You are vocal about your dislikes, as anyone who is around you for ten minutes can testify.  You have an annoyingly charming habit of proclaiming, "I'm hungry" or "I wannuh nack" when what you really mean is "I don't know what to do with myself and I want you to be my cruise director, Mama."  For my part, I wonder at how ironic it is that I, as a Mama, want you to learn the phrase "I'm bored" and desperately try not to lose my mind when you beg for 'nack' when your hands aren't even dried yet from washing them after the last meal.

You have a powerful love for Dusty and want to wear your 'Dusty shuwt' all the time.  You are working hard at being a big boy and your summer wardrobe is your underwear and some sub-standard t-shirt anytime the Dusty shirt is getting a much needed cleaning.  Oh, and your rain boots.  This is perfectly perfect perfection to you, even when it's closing in on 90 degrees outside. 

The best part of the above paragraph?  I'm pretty sure you haven't even seen Planes.

Your favorite books are Ruby In Her Own Time and Pinkalicious.  Ruby is your own pick, but I'm pretty sure Pinkalicious is favored simply because you know your sisters will read it to you pretty much any time you ask.

You are noisy and joyous and headstrong and mischievous and smelly like any active three year old boy should be.  You sing sweetly and roar raucously.  You work hard for your achievements and proudly show us each accomplishment.

You were, and continue to be, the perfect surprise.

I love you so much, sweet boy,
Your Mama