Dear Wren Bird,
You got your flu shot this month. You’ve gotten enough shots now that you know what’s coming. We laid you on the table and you looked at us like the evil people we surely are. You were pricked, you cried, and in the mere seconds it took to sit you back up you were silent and staring. You weren’t wasting the time on self pity. You locked eyes with the nurse and the doctor and I knew. I knew you had just mentally put them on your list, Arya Stark style.
You understand “no.” It started with a defiant “pfft” anytime your Lola told you no. Now you shake your head and smile as you reach for whatever we’ve told you not to touch. I can already see the twinkle in your eye. You’re definitely going to be an ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’ kind of gal.
You went Trick or Treating. Like a boss, you had a Halloween wardrobe change.
“Fun” story: On Halloween we attempted to take you and your brother out around the neighborhood, but your brother threw a fit as he does. In the midst of all of Big Brother’s carrying on an old, gay, black man in a long leather coat appeared out of what seemed like no where with treats in hand.
“Here. You need to cut it out,” he said looking directly at Otis as he handed him a Pinterest-esque bag of treats. He handed you your very own bag and said, “And this sister of yours is beautiful.” Before we could ask the
Halloween angel neighborhood Super Nanny to raise our children, he disappeared.
Yes. This was the extent of your trick-or-treating. A neighbor coming out to give us candy to stop the yelling.
You climb up the stairs every chance you get. Standing without assistance is coming sooner rather than later. You look at baby food like I’m trying to feed you dog food. You love California rolls, the cats, and a toy alligator.
You slay in every possible way. I love you.