My Abby

Yesterday I had a three year old. Now I have a four year old. How does this happen? If you had asked me, back when Abby was born, what kind of child I imagined she would be when she turned four, I probably would have said all the generic stuff, like that she would like playing outside and eating hot dogs and that she would say and do things that would make her daddy and I chuckle. How could I ever have known that I would have a child who:

- Can sing "Jesus Loves Me" and "So Happy Together" by the Turtles with equal enthusiasm--and fairly in tune

- Invented and correctly and frequently uses the word "poink" (it's a combination of point and poke, and it's that thing you do to kids into their belly button when you want to bug them)

- Counts school buses on the way to day care in the voice of the Count from Sesame Street (THREE school buses--HA HA HA)

- Enjoys dressing up in bizarre getups and doing the vogue in front of her mirror

- Doesn't listen when I tell her to put her toys up, but can hear me open a piece of chocolate from across the house

- Has made such a reputation for herself at her pre-school that when I meet other parents, even though I may not be familiar with their child, they say to me, "OH! You're Abby's mom! What a kid!"

- Is determined to be a Razorback cheerleader when she grows up

- Loves to play the game where we list everyone we know and put them into two catergories: Silly Goose or Sweetie Pie

- Has her grandparents so wrapped around her finger that I'm fairly sure they would buy her a small island if she asked the right way

- Adores her little brother and considers him her best toy

- Has parents who go into her room every night to watch her sleep, thank God for giving us such an amazing daughter, and realize we can't wait to see what she's going to do next.

Happy birthday, Abs. I love you!