Nine.
Happy birthday, Laurel.
Today you turn nine. I'm sure you feel like nine years is a very long time to inhabit this earth. For me, though, I still remember the day you were born.
A lot has happened in nine years. You've learned to walk, to talk, to read everything in sight. You've excelled in school, been accepted to a sweet program for the exceptionally gifted. You've hoarded your money and collected all manner of little treasures squirreled away in your room. You've been to California and to Chicago, which we all know is the Big Time. You've flown on planes and raised sunflowers. You've also helped raise a little brother who stands and forlornly calls 'Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssyyyyyy.....' at the door when you leave.
But your most important achievement is carving out a well-placed and permanent niche in the hearts of everyone around you. You're one of the sweetest, most sensitive champions of the underdog that I have ever met. I'm proud to be your Mom.
Happy birthday, Laurel.
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