"If you don't see the book on the shelf, write it." ~ Beverly Cleary
Last year she got the Ice Princess face painting at the Edmonds Arts Festival and wore it for a couple days longer than we would have preferred. But she LOVVED it. This year she remembered exactly where the face painting booth was and had a very clear plan as to what she wanted to get. To say that she’s a proud chicken would be a complete under statement. She’s a five year old with a freakin’ pegasus on her forehead, it really doesn’t get better than that.
I grew up with two brothers. I’m the middle child, with one brother two years older and the younger one six whole years apart. I think people can look at us, especially my older brother and me, and tell by our physical similarities that we’re related. Same deep-set eyes and nose.
I’d say without a doubt that my brothers and I are share the same moral code, understanding of family, and deep love for where, and how, we were raised.
But we’re also really different. In our life choices, our day-to-day living and how we navigate life.
I love that I’ve got my brothers because sometimes I can use them as fact-checkers….when I have some bizarre memory I can double check that it really happened (and ‘it’ usually did happen). I love that even though they’re brothers, siblings of mine, they’re also vastly different from one another.
We come from the same home, loved by the same parents, grandparents and extended family.
But we’re also so different.
And when I see my girls, loved in the same home, by the same parents, grandparents and extended family, show me that they are indeed different, unique and wholly themselves, I find great comfort.
Because how incredibly boring would life be if we were all the same.
Because she turns five tomorrow and we’re not up to snuff on our typical birthday photo posts, I’m posting a portrait of Maggie each month from the past year. Starting with a year ago, standing in our back yard to the bottom, her 5 year portrait. This year flew by and here we are on the cusp of five. My little chicken isn’t so little anymore.
