You are 9 months of awesome, Little Girl.
You’re crawling, sitting up, and chomping pretzel sticks and graham crackers like it’s your calling in life. Not that you have teeth, because you don’t- not one, but you eat all the same.
You’ve got grey-green–sometimes-blue eyes and straight, fine, red-blonde hair. (No idea.) Your hair has been the cause of quite a few giggles around town… it only started laying down this past week. Before that, it was all up all the time– like a muppet. Related: we call you ‘Muppet.’
You have this incredible ability to trill your tongue to sound like a motorcycle? a Mariachi band leader? It’s pretty awesome. You are not quick to laugh, but I don’t mind working for it. It’s deep and real, and that’s all that counts. While Gideon and Rylie rock some serious Disney-esque eyes, you are all about the cheeks and mouth. It’s hard not to kiss and squeeze you all the time.
You will never want for a companion in this home. We are all ready and willing- and sometimes even desperate- to show you everything. You have survived 9 months of Gus Man sitting on you, feeding you inappropriately, squeezing you like a barn cat, and throwing match box cars at you to ‘share.’ You have weathered Ry’s bottle-holding, Ry’s spoon-feeding, Ry’s carrying/hoisting, and Ry’s burping/beating. You, of all three children, are the toughest without question. Abby, I pray you would continue to let your brother and sister love on you without hesitation. Your unconditional acceptance has made you a bridge over often troubled water.
Child, what a gift.
When you yawn, it’s loud and dramatic… like your Mamma. I feel like you are 9 months going on 30. Truth be told, I whisper a lot of secrets to you at that 11pm feeding that nobody else hears. You’re my quiet buddy. The one ready for anything. The one who goes anywhere without question or fuss. You are #3, probably the last, and the sweetest way to end a good run of genetics.
You are the smallest in our family but certainly the most stable. Thanks for taking it all in stride… the endless car rides and buckles, the skipping of naps, the older siblings and animals who steal your spotlight every chance they get. You are a champion. A God-send. A-mazing.
We love you so much, Abby-O!