Sassy

First of all, thanks for your encouragement and prayers . . . hope I didn't sound like Wendy Whiner, I am thankful that even when I don't feel great, I am definitely functioning fine.

Today I thought I would dedicate the post to the little nugget we call Sassy Sissy. Sascha is a little mess. She is NOTHING like Josh or I and we spend equal amounts of time amused and befuddled by her. I probably say, "I have no idea what to do with her!" at least 4 times a day. She is spunky and sweet. She is mean and cuddly. She adores the big kids and loves to annoy and hit them. She is dramatic about consequences yet undeterred by discipline. I am always on the edge of my seat with her . . . she creates suspense, leaves me humble and melts my heart.

God love whoever she marries.

Today I had her repeat this after me (yes, already today we have had this conversation, because she wakes up in all her Sascha glory EVERY day) . . . "God made me JUST the way I am . . . now we have to use it for good!"

Sunday, while we were trying to enjoy our Mother's Day lunch, she was being a real toot. I quietly whispered to her that I was going to pinch her leg (our in public form of discipline) and she stood up and stomped her feet in the booth and said, "NO! YOU GO HOME AND GET MY PANKIN' POON!"

If I say walk, she runs. If I say stop, she goes. If I say don't hit, she pummels.

But--oh. my. gosh. NO ONE cuddles like her. And she is a mommy's girl . . . the first of our kids (the only of our kids) to so openly prefer me. If I'm home, only I can change her or put her to bed or get her milk (unless we are snuggled on the couch, then daddy can get the milk). And she has the sweetest voice when she says, "I lub you."

And y'all. The girl has 3 different runs that are hilarious. She gallops or she runs like she has a beach ball between her knees or she runs on her tippie toes like a ballerina.

She can talk like she's 12. (Not sure if that is good or bad.) She is quick to correct you if you call her baby or darlin or sugar lover . . . "NO! I Sassa Bass!" And sometimes she calls me Racial instead of Mommy.

I'm a smitten kitten. Just absolutely adore her in all her sassiness. I apologize if she has hit your child, kicked your child, snatched a toy from him/her, talked back to you, run away from you . . . we are trying, really, really trying to channel the energy and attitude towards good things. But I promise, if you spend time with that love, you will find yourself head over heels with her. (Right, Ms Tepahnee?)

(Oh, and if you were on the patio with us at Palio's Friday night, I am REALLY sorry. That reminded me why we don't go out to eat as much anymore. I probably should have bought your dinners, or at the least a few drinks!)