To My Little Miss

Three years ago on a snowy Sunday morning not too different from today, you let me know you were ready to meet the world.  Even then, as we scrambled to prepare for your arrival, you did things your own way, on your own time; stubborn as all heck and refusing to be coaxed out before you were good and ready.  And then, at 2:21 pm, the miracle of modern medicine brought forth the miracle of your little smush face.

Fast forward all the joyous days of you in our lives, stubborn and funny and creative and growing up so quickly.  I love the sound of your easy laughter, your strange little dance moves, your funky sense of style.  I love that you already know your impatience and own your talents; I love you wanting to do everything and your confidence that you'll be darn good at it.  Even in your worst moments, with the screams and the tantrums and the DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA, I love your spunk, your push and pull, your new tactic of bargaining with the sweet lilt of "okay, Mom?". . . okay, Miss Z, my princess, my sweetheart, my little girl.  Happy Birthday.