eight years old. that is really hard to comprehend. you made me a mama eight years ago today, and I couldn't be happier that you did.


this year you have faced so many challenges and changes. everyday you find a way to bring a little more joy to those around you. you are serious, kind, funny, sassy, bold, artistic, loving, and thoughtful.


right now, you love your american girl dolls.
you love pizza, and plain mixed green salads.
you drink a glass of orange juice every night with dinner.
and have found a love for deserts.
especially nothing bundt cakes.
you now eat chicken, as long as it has plenty of sauce to accompany it.
you draw like there's no tomorrow.
and love creating your own science experiments.
you ballet all day.
you ballet all night.
you are growing even more graceful with each plie and turn.
you love hamilton. love it. like haven't listened to anything else but hamilton since july 3.
you love jack's and bento box, and will now finally take me up on a pinkberry run when I suggest it.
chocolate hazelnut with dark chocolate crips, chocolate chips, and of course, mochi.
you love to match me, and your dolls.
you wish your hair was straight some days, and I wish my hair was curly most days.
you have two little top teeth that refuse to come in; you have six adult teeth fully in.
you are exactly four feet tall, and when I pick you up for even a moment, we almost match in height.
you act like you are ninety too often, and when you do, I call you gertrude.
but when you act like a cute ninety-year old, I call you gertie.
you keep your nona going everyday, which has always been true, but especially true this past month.






we love you to the moon and back baby girl.
try to stay tiny for just a little while longer.
love, your mama