Now you are Four.
Holy crap. I know that's not the most eloquent way to say it, but all of you moms know what I'm talking about.
This delicious newborn turned four years old last weekend. She freaking rocks my world. I can count on one hand how many times she's been in trouble in her lifetime. Is it because she's that good? Probably not. Is it because she is a spoiled princess and can do no wrong in my eyes? Probably.
Audrey is four. She won't wear shorts or pants because she is THAT girly. We have to call leggings "tights" to get her to put them on. We've even used that trick with pants. Just yesterday I had to tell her that the shorts were her "special soccer clothes" to get her to not wear a skirt to her first soccer lesson. She twirls, she dances, she sings, she talks our ears off. She loves Barbie and Polly Pocket. She jumps on the trampoline with the boys and holds her own in a physical fight with them.
She loves the pool and floats around independently with a swim ring (fairy-themed, of course).
She thinks nuts are called "coconuts" and often asks for coconuts for a snack. I can't bring myself to correct her. Honey, I'll give you coconuts all day long because you're so darned cute.
She wants her hair long like Rapunzel's and she thinks the blow dryer actually helps make her hair longer.
With all of my love and hopes and dreams, I wish for you joy and happiness and health.