Four tomorrow

Four is so big.  Really, so much bigger than three.  And what's so crazy is that it seems like it was not yesterday, but maybe just last Tuesday that we were flying home from India and she was turning two.

Four climbs trees.  Four is sassy with these twirked and questioning expressions.  

Four is wanting to help with every single thing.  Making pancakes, digging flower holes, feeding the animals.  

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I remember so well when you couldn't hold your head up; when you couldn't chew a bean.  

And now you are asking for more chutney at the dinner table, and we're giving you a bike to learn to ride.  

You are so independent with strong opinions about coats and teeth brushing, and you drive me crazy when you holler about the bath-- both getting in and getting out, giant protests.  

But mostly you are my snow day, and I love you more than I ever thought I could love anything.  

Sleep well, Violet.  Tomorrow you are four, and four is so big.