"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." ~e e cummings

Thursday, February 21, 2019

The Dragon Lady is Seven

She was born in the Year of the Dragon, under the water sign.

A gentle dragon.
Nothing could be more fitting for my Baby of babies.

She is fiercely independent. Strong-willed and determined. 

She can tame the wildest of beasts!

She speaks her mind, ferociously at times...

 but always with a generous heart. Her compassionate streak runs deep. She is expressive and creative, yet quiet and introspective. She goes with the flow, yet she knows exactly who she is.

My Water Dragon Lady.

She is at once ahead of her time--slamming doors and telling me that I'm "never nice" like the teenager she will become--and taking her time--still fitting comfortably on my lap and wrapping her arms around me to tell me she loves me "too tight."

Sugar and spice.

Beauty and brains.

Strength and tenderness.

Adventure and comfort.

She is everything.

So are her lashes. My god.
She'll be a veterinarian when she grows up. And a Mommy. The Daddy in her family will stay home with the kids so she doesn't have to take care of the animals AND the babies. Priorities, you know?

She's still a vegetarian--for ethical reasons, only occasionally allowing herself to forget that bacon is meat.
She cares deeply about this world and has a wise-beyond-her-years awareness of our current political, social, and environmental climate. Partly, this is my fault. I don't shelter her from my feelings about our president and his disastrous failings. But it's also just who she is. 

It was her idea, after all, to decide not to join Girl Scouts when she learned that Max wasn't allowed to join a troop. She didn't think it was fair. Social justice is in her blood.

Without provocation, she announced that when she's old enough, she'll only vote for people who are going to save the environment. There are too many animals who need these trees that people keep cutting down...

It's a strong one, that moral compass of hers.

...two little baby teeth down.)
Her favorite movie is Black Panther. She saw it in the theatre with her Mom Mom and Pop. Her brothers opted out on account of scariness, but not Molly. "How'd she do?" I asked when it was over. "She loved it!" my dad reported. "She didn't cover her eyes once!"

Her favorite letter is lowercase "g" because it's so fun to write, followed by "M" because, well, obviously.

Her favorite foods are white: Bread and cheese. Carrots, red peppers, waffles, strawberries, peanut butter, and nuts round out the entirety of her diet. But she's starting to venture out. She'll eat spinach now (leaf by leaf, each dipped in ranch, leaving a tiny pile of spinach stems on her salad plate), and key lime coconut milk yogurt....so that's a start.

She still can't say "pearl" ("puhh") and she still says /y/ when she means /l/.

She still likes to be carried.
And I do because she's my Baby of babies. (And she's a peanut.)  

She makes us laugh...both unintentionally, with her adorably tiny voice, and intentionally, with her invented stories and characters that have us rolling (...like the one about the super heroes "Dice Jeffrey" and "Wonder Woman's Clone" and "Wonder Woman's Clone's Clone")...

and her clever jokes:

What do spies like to put in their pies?


She is a kind friend, an excellent student, an eager helper, and my favorite Sunday morning newspaper buddy.

She makes us whole.

Give this child a modeling contract. I'll buy anything she's selling.

Lesson Learned:

One of my favorite things in life is watching you experience this world. You are joyful and curious, a seeker. You are kind and affectionate and thoughtful. You take risks and are not afraid to be the first one to reach out. You can be bashful, but you are brave. I am inspired by your confidence.

You are stronger than you know, and more capable than you can imagine. I can't wait to see how you change this world, just by being a part of it...

Happy Birthday, Molly Bolly. You are so loved.

1 comment :

  1. We always knew, when D was born, that there'd be another one to follow. B is nine now, and is still our baby of babies. He made me carry him for the last mile of our walk this week. Suddenly, he doesn't seem quite as small as he used to.

    Happy birthday, Molly, may your years be long and happy.