This past year has been tough, spent primarily indoors with little interaction with others, and yet you've remained the brightest light. Your happiness fills the house - I love waking up hearing you in your room writing books, reading, or quietly singing to yourself. Our conversations, once simple and sweet, have expanded to encapsulate a kind of depth, curiosity, and thoughtfulness I never thought possible in a kid your age. Quite simply, I still can't believe I gave birth to my best friend.
You've blossomed in ways I never thought imaginable. You used to be so shy and reserved and now possess a self-assured confidence that makes those who don't even know you feel fortunate to be in your orbit. You've embraced change, particularly virtual kindergarten, with a level of enthusiasm and excitement that inspires me every day. You're one of the first to raise your hand, jump to your feet for the pledge of allegiance, or thank your teacher at the end of each class. Nothing about this situation is ideal, but getting a sneak peek into how you handle yourself in school has been an honor to watch. You're respectful, sweet, and patient, and when I'm having a hard day, I'm always comforted by the fact that I must be doing something right based on the kind of person you have become.
And don't get me wrong - you've also got plenty of spunk as well. You're hilarious and your dry sense of humor is one of my favorite things about you. Last week, I made you a peanut butter and banana sandwich and as I ate your discarded crust, you asked, "Are you going to eat my banana peel too?” For every three "I love you" cards I receive, decorated with rainbows, butterflies and hearts, I'll receive a "Don't come in," note outside your door, with the apostrophe, impressively in the right place. I know I probably say this each year, but this age really is the best.
Your birthday on Saturday will look different than other years. It will be quiet, but filled with all of your favorite things - a girls sleepover (aka me in your bed), donuts, a dance party, Mexican food, and a movie night. I can't wait to celebrate you, my incredible six-year-old. You make me so proud and to steal a line you told me a few nights back, “You’re the voice to my song.” I love you more than the sun, the moon and the stars.