Dear Mary Kate,
There’s no way to put into words the giggle in your voice, the lilt in the way you pronounce words. A photo can capture the sprinkling of tiny freckles across your button nose, but it would take a non-stop video camera to record everything that makes you Mary Kate. You are developing your own little personality and — not surprisingly to your curly-haired mamma — it perfectly matches your bouncy, corkscrew curly hair.
You are our resident actor, making everything from eating breakfast to taking a potty break a performance meant to entertain. If you once got a rise out of someone by saying something, you’re sure to say it again, every time you repeat the associated action. Except with more expression and more expectation for a reaction every single time.
A bit of a copycat, you mimic your big sister, but you put your own spin on things. While Ruth visits Caspian of Narnia in her dreams each night, you visit Buck Denver of “What’s in the Bible”. Whatever Caspian can do, Buck Denver can do it better. Buck Denver has been in countless battles now (with a nod to Caspian’s warrior abilities, of course), and died a few times so we could mourn appropriately. He’s your invisible partner and steady scapegoat.
You are the snuggle bug who will never sit still long enough to snuggle, until it is bedtime and you are supposed to be in bed. Then and only then do you want to snuggle, even though you’ve spent the previous fifteen minutes of storytime prancing around the living room rather than sitting in Daddy’s lap. We often awake in the middle of the night to find you’ve crawled in bed with us. And after you’ve pushed us each as close to the edges of the queen bed, you’ll then reach your foot out to touch one of us just so you can (once again) say, “You’re squishing me!”
Your daddy shakes his head and laughs when he looks at you. Then he says, “You look just like your mommy, did you know that?” A unique combination of your firstborn mommy’s personality in your secondborn birth order, we never know what we’re going to hear from you next. But we love every moment of it.
We pray that you will learn to use your personality to point others to your Savior. And we trust that your faith in Christ will continue to grow, along with your professed adoration for Him.
the mommy whom you look like
P.S. Here is a collection of the quoteables that come out of your little mouth:
“I love you,” I call across the kitchen to your daddy.
“I love you, too,” he replies.
“I love you five!” you chime in.
“How are we going to get better from this cold?” Ru asked.
“Lots of water, lots of sleep…”
“And lots of movies?” you asked hopefully.
Ruth: “Mommy gave Celeste an orange wrap.”
Mary: “Baby Jesus had a white wrap.”
“I’m being a little baby and walking on my kneels.”
Mary Kate: “Look at the star darlings!”
Your Daddy: “Only Mary Kate can make starlings sound beautiful.”
“You’re not Pa and Ma, you’re the restaurant people who bring us food.”
Mommy: “Are you sleeping?”
Ruth: “No, I can’t, because Mary’s talking to herself.”
Mary Kate: “No to myself, to rice cakes.”
Mommy: “You have to get out of your pajamas and get dressed today.”
Mary: “Is somebody coming over for dinner?”
Mary Kate: “Mommy, is it Easter night?”
Me: “No–it will be in a week!”
Mary Kate: “And then there will be eggs coming down from the sky and rabbits everywhere!”
Watching the lions at the zoo:
Mary Kate: “Mommy, did they get married?”
Lady: “That’s so cute!”
Mommy: “Yes, sweetheart, they got married.”
Mary Kate: “Well why didn’t they have any children?”
Ruth: “Grandpa and Grandma had four children, not like Papa and Nanna who had five.”
Mary: “Momma, what happened to Papa and Nanna’s children? Did they die?”
Mommy: “No, darlin, they grew up!”
In your cheerful and informative tone: “Mom, as you know, if your son grows up he will get married and you won’t have a son anymore! Your son is going to get married soon. Your son is going to get married to a wife!”
“Mommy, why do we call it upsie-daisies instead of downsie-daisies?”
“Mommy, I named my baby Stripe Dot. Isn’t she beautiful?”
With your hand on top of your curly head: “I don’t have very much hair up here, like [Uncle] Tom.”
“Mommy, will there be fireworks on all the 60 days of July?”
(top photos by Rebekah Leona, bottom photo by Auntie Megan)