God, I wish you could be here to watch her grow. She’s so cool. And smart. And funny. She often prances around the house in a pink leotard with butterfly wings sewed onto the back and forces Mike and I to partake in endless rounds of “Ring Around the Rosie,” drowning in laughter every time we all fall down. She knows all her animal sounds and shapes and colors. She laser-focuses on any movie from start to finish—crying at the sad parts, laughing at the funny parts. Her sense of empathy is astounding. She makes an angry face and a happy face and a surprised face and a worried face on command.
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