Six Years of You

Dear Claire,

I told you the other day that if I was in Kindergarten with you, I think I would have chosen you for my best friend. I like your ways, sweet girl. You are shy in public, but never at home and definitely not around your close friends. You watch closely. You make wise remarks. You ask insightful questions and like to listen to the answers. Sometimes you also just ask questions to keep the conversations flowing. I love to listen to you and Kennedy asking each other these type of questions, from "What do you like better a quesadilla or French toast?" to "What do you think runs faster a cheetah or a chipmunk? (followed by giggles)".

You are conscientious and can stick to a task for hours. The way that you will painstakingly work on a drawing amazes me and your dad. You remember every detail—a dog's tongue hanging out while it is running after a rabbit, a condensation trail behind Santa's sleigh, the exact slant of a peacock's eye (yes, you drew all of these pictures and many more). You rise early and start your day with art. The rule is you must produce two drawings before you can wake up mom and dad and some of your best work comes from these early morning art sessions.

You are taking the piano and just had your first piano recital. The piano is hard for you to learn and while practicing the other day you complained that the notes on the staff all looked like "lines and circles". They do, yet you stick with it and I love to see that furtive glance at me when you know that you have played a piece perfectly. Once you can play it perfectly, practice becomes a breeze. You like to show off what you have learned.

You really like us, particularly Kennedy. I hate to even think that there may come a time when you won't for awhile, but for now revel in the fact that you want us all around. I asked you one day what your favorite part of school was and you replied "homework". I liked to think that it is because we do your homework together. You miss Kennedy and me during the day, and maybe even David and we miss you. Kennedy cried inconsolably the day you started school repeating "And now I have NO ONE!".

You love your chickens: Speedy, Bubblegum, Silky and Whiskey Pete. You are the best wrangler in the house and when you catch them you give them lots of snuggles and kisses. You feed them our table scraps and laugh when they eat spaghetti which you think they think are worms.

You use prayers to preach to your younger sister with statements like, "If Kennedy is really sick bless her to feel better, if she is not bless her not to lie" and "Please bless that Kennedy won't get water out of the fridge during the prayer".

This was an easy year for you. There wasn't a lot of drama associated with five. Not many tears, except daily when we comb your hair. Not many angry moments, although you can perfectly replicate my too loud "Errr!" when you are frustrated. There was just a lot of growing up and becoming more of the sweet little girl you are.

I love you wholeheartedly, my little one.

Mom