Fwee

Dear Fifi,

I can't believe you're "fwee" today. That's three. You are an utter delight to raise. You're all of the best parts of both of us: inquisitive, kind, empathetic and hilarious. You are so funny. I suppose we always knew you would be since you are the fruit of two rather funny parents.

You've learned so much in the past year. How to cuss a blue streak. How to count to 13 reliably and then to 20 less reliably. You can carry on conversations and answer questions as well as deliver perfectly timed one liners like "What awuh you tawkin' about Wilwis?" You're just a little bit sassy. No idea where you get that from.

You are such a delightfully amazing child. No longer a baby and you remind me often: "I am not a wittle baby. I am a wittle guwuh." As much as you've grown and changed over the last three years, my love for you has grown just as much but my dreams for you have not changed. I hope that you'll always be loved and loving. I hope that you'll be kind and that you'll find the biggest dream ever and chase it. I hope that we'll always be best fwiends.

And the rest?
Doesn't matter.

You can do anything you want.
 Except take your clothes off for the entertainment of other people.
 So, you can be anything you want, except a stripper or beauty queen.

Beauty has little to do with what you look like nekkid, anyway.

I wush you, baby girl. You awuh my best fwiend forever.

Mommy