A few things I never want to forget about our firecracker, at age 3.5:
Questions about Jesus, while clutching her new prayer box that she made at Sunday School:
-Are you sure Jesus sees us?
-Is God scary?
-Are monsters real?
-I want to see Jesus's house, can we go there? Like on Saturday? We'll have to fly there, I guess.
-Does Jesus have a dog?
-Is Jesus a princess?
-Are there really princesses? (Can we see the real princess in England sometime?)
-God doesn't like when we say 'Oh my god,' he likes when we say 'oh my gosh.' Like that, yeah, like that.
-Dear God, thank you for my clock, my iPod, and my blanket. And for Truman. And butterflies. Amen.
After learning a song in Spanish (apparently) for their Christmas program at church, I was telling CC and Truman about how Nate and I lived in Spain during college.
C: "Is college fun?"
Me: (after pausing, smiling to myself, thinking of a million memories) "Yes, college is super fun."
C: "Do they have Legos there? Or just toys?"
One night after dinner I hear Cecelia yelling, 'Come here, Rebecca!! REBECCA! Get over here!' She was yelling this over and over and Porter was squealing in delight, because he was 'Rebecca.' We don't know any Rebeccas, so this is especially random.
Yes, Cecelia, you are far more than just your curls (although those are pretty spectacular, too).
You love chapsticks, your baby dolls, coloring with markers, candy, and stalling at bedtime. You are fearless, you are tough, and you are still somehow delicate and full of such charisma it's scary.
We love the heck out of you and hope you always know it. You are the best source of entertainment we know.