My Darling Livvy Love,
Sweet girl, you're six! Happy birthday.
Since my letter to you last year, a lot has happened. You've just about conquered Kindergarten, you're reading Dr. Seuss all by yourself (props on The Foot Book tonight; slayed it as always), and your scare-game is on point. I had no idea how much could change in a year, Livvy Love. When I was a kid and your Mamma and Bumpa would say things like "time flies," I thought, "the hell it does, we've been stacking firewood forever," but now that I have my own little girl, I understand what your grandparents meant: time with you is special, and it always seems to go too quickly. Even on days when you say "no" to me more than is wise (ahem), I always find a moment that I wish I could stop the time and just live there, right there, with you.
You're opinionated and bossy and sassy, and so freaking clever, Liv.
Last Saturday at soccer, we got into a mild disagreement about what hustling meant. I told you to jog over to your team, and you responded with, "I don't feel like it." Yeah...I won that disagreement, FYI, and you ran to your team. That wasn't the moment, though I do love sweet victory when you're being contrary. More than being right, I loved the moment a little while later when you were on the field and you got the ball, passing it to a teammate who scored. Your face, Liv...it lit up the sky. Do you know the first thing you did? Looked to me and said, "Mommy, I hustled!"
I swear I almost cried (Daddy, on the other hand, had a great laugh).
There is nothing that doesn't deserve a happy dance and a song in your world, Livvy Love, whether it's the other team scoring, or your team accidentally scoring for them. It can be a walk on the balance beam, or swinging on the bars without help, or brushing your teeth at night. Whatever you do, it's got life and magic and happiness, and every day, those are the moments I breathe in and commit to memory.
What other little magic moments do I want to look back on and remember in six more years?
Your favorite song is Halsey's "Bad at Love." You love Descendants and High School Musical, and you've now tagged me in the face with your line drive Wiffle ball twice. You thought it was hilarious, both times.
You stuff dog cookies in your pocket and play Easter Egg Hunt with Luna when daddy doesn't mow the grass for a long time, and you write books in bed at night when you're supposed to be sleeping (side note: these books have better plot twists than mine. You said we could share, so, thanks in advance).
You cried the day someone in class told you that you couldn't be a princess, and then you reminded them that I was a queen so that obviously made you a princess (well played). You wear dresses every day, and love your pink Doc Martins. Mamma and Nonnie are two of your favorite people in the world, you love to water your tulips, and every day you come home from school and your backpack is filled with pictures and notes from friends because you love everyone.
You, my amazing six-year-old, are loved as well. Thank you for the happiest six years. Thank you for the songs and the smiles and the sass. You are my sunshine, forever and always.
Happy birthday, Livvy Love.