She is nine today.
Holy crap, I cannot believe she is nine.
Seems just yesterday that she was a four year old riding in the backseat on the way to preschool, lecturing me about driving too fast and getting pulled over by a police man….again.
Or that would talk my ear off – demanding to hear that Pink song one more time. Or twenty more times.
I can literally call her my “pain in the ass” kid as while pregnant with her, she chose to sit in such a way that my sciatic nerve gave me shooting pains in my hip for about three months.
She was the kid that my father-in-law decided was not talking enough at age 2 and demanded she be tested for developmental delays. Now she won’t stop talking if her life depended on it. The quiet-game is a favorite simply to get her to stop talking for at least 5 minutes in the car.
And I’d like to thank whoever taught her to “use her words” because when she is pissed, she uses them until she usually is sent from the room.
She is my daredevil. Hopping down the front steps on her pogo stick. Riding her bike without hands. Doing her best monkey impressions on the monkey bars in the backyard. She has more scrapes and bruises than DJ ever had. And it is awesome.
She has a wicked sense of humor. She is a smart ass…..just like her mother.
And she is incredibly independent. Always has been.
She loves making pancakes. Yes, I let her near the stove which is gas. In fact, I think I trust her near it more than I do DJ. She is our master laundry washer. Why? She wanted to know how it worked, so I showed her, and she started doing it herself.
And her questions about driving are someday going to get us in trouble, I’m sure. The kid knows the difference between a manual and automatic. She asks lots of questions about ever part of driving. She has a curiosity she is not afraid to satisfy. Hell, at the aquarium a month ago, when they asked if anyone had a question, she said “I do” and ran to the person on the other side of the octopus tank to ask it. No fear.
I love that kid. I love her because she is her own person. Her own creative, athletic, smart person.
And that is awesome.
(Even if I wish duct taping a kid’s mouth were not considered abuse sometimes.)
Eight was a great year for her, I know nine will be even better!
2 Comments Add yours
Happy Birthdy, Indigo!
Happy birthday Indigo!