Happy Birthday, Meaghan. You're 5!

My Dear Beautiful Meaghan,

Five years ago you came into this world and brightened your family's lives and the lives of those around you...more than you could ever realize. You are my energetic, passionate bundle of love, smiles, kisses, hugs, and my artist of rainbows, flowers, and hearts.

I love how excited you get, whether it's over our special movie nights, a treat, a shopping trip, or the fact that you're having a birthday and turning 5. Your excitement is contagious. You have intense passion.

I love how you tell me everything...well, everything that is important to you, anyway. I love knowing who said what at school; who picked his/her nose; who pushed who; and who wore what. And I love that you can't keep a secret (it just eats you up), and you don't like secrets being kept from you (that eats you up even more).

I love you for the questions you ask... never stop asking them:
  - Why did God make pirates if they're bad?
  - Why did God create mosquitoes?
  - Why does God let us get old?
  - Did God make rocks... light bulbs... TVs... ?
  - Are you older than 120? (Well, maybe you could stop asking that one)

I love how serious you are when you tell me things like: "If you don't be nice, I'm gonna call your mom and tell her." Or when you say anything that ends with "Duh," though I pretend I'm annoyed and scold you.

I love how when you don't tell the truth your eyes suddenly roll up to the corners and you purse your lips together to suppress a smile.

I love listening to you pretend, or talking to yourself in the mirror, or rambling on in a language you've made up that you call Spanish.

You love pink, dolls, princesses, headbands, jewelry, clothes, shoes...anything that is girlie and costs money. You love your friends and your family.

You love music - anything with a beat. And you've got the dance moves to go along with it. I love listening to you sing, especially the lyrics you've come up with on your own. And I love how when we're dancing together you stop and say, "Mom, watch this move." Or you compliment me on a move I make. I treasure that, cuz I know it won't be long before those same dance moves embarrass you.

You are smart. Nothing gets by you and you can do anything you put your mind to. You know what to do and say to make a case for yourself.

You collect feathers, rocks, sparkles, and inadvertently sand and dirt from everything you pick up off the ground. And I find it ironic that you get so grossed out over someone having touched their mouth or having a scratch anywhere on their body, yet you pick up rotten acorns, dirty feathers, and would happily pick up gum or candy off the ground and plop it in your mouth if I didn't threaten you with the possibility of every disease out there.

I love that you still hold my hand, want my hugs and kisses, and demand your mommy. It's not always convenient, but it's always secretly appreciated.

As I sat looking at you last night while you were sleeping, first I realized that you are an amazing miracle. Then I realized that not much will change for me come the next day, but a lot will have changed for you. Birthdays have milestone implications for you, and you've just reached one. Five. You're leaving behind everything you would consider baby-ish. And then there's kindergarten. More lost teeth. And you are officially a kid (so stop acting like you're a teenager already, wouldja?).

So my birthday girl, I hope all your birthday wishes come true. I hope you continue to grow and stay healthy, enjoying life and what it has to offer. We wish for you all a mother, father, and brother can wish for their daughter/sister. We love you.