She almost didn't make it. Her labor was so hard, so fast, that she practically raced to be born. In the process, the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck several times, a fact I was not told until much, much later. Post-cuddles and smiles, then my spouse broke that fact to me.
She's still smiling. It take a LOT to get her down. Unlike her siblings, she can rise above most events that depress others. She has an inborn resilience that I wish I could transfer to other kids.
She loves hugs. Hugs are something you do to make other people smile.
She loves pink things. Frilly things. Princessy things. Girly things.
That said, she'll turn on a dime to do sports like soccer and softball. We've nicknamed her Smity. That's a portmanteau for small, but mighty. She's petite, barely weighs 40 pounds, barely scrapes past four feet in height, but she'll steal that soccer ball from a kid twice her size and run with it, or slap a hit into the gap when it will hurt the most.
She's deceptively tough in a tiny package.
We've enjoyed every minute with her, and we can't wait to see what the next ten years will bring.
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