There are a lot of people in the village who like to tell us how wonderful The Princess is, how sweet she can be with the other kids and what a pleasure she is to have around. They tell us how she said a kind word or helped with something simple. They tell us how sharp she is and how she's got such a strong character. I love hearing these things because she is all this. And more.
She's sensitive and strong, this one. She watches and listens and gets it. I mean really, really gets it. She has this uncanny ability for a such a young child to sense that there is more going on than meets the eye. She observes, takes it in, and doesn't mince words. For example, when The Man moved back in after our quick separation, she's the one who looked him straight in the eye and said, "you were a jerk." She nails me too, it must be said, frustrated when I stop to chat with all and sundry or when I forget things, as I often do.
She's fed up with her brothers, can't deal with Rosie touching her toys, isn't so sure about falling off those ponies, and hates stinging nettles. She has a fierce temper and isn't afraid to use it. She summons up all of her now 8 year old self and goes storming off screaming, just so that you know she really isn't happy.
She can't resist dogs, donkeys, or cats and wants desperately to have a French bulldog. She does cartwheels and handstands in the grocery store, on the ferry to England, and waiting for her favourite TV shows to start. I can see her doing acrobatics on circus horses, smiling broadly, eyes glowing with joy.
The Princess is like sunshine. I can't imagine a day without her and we're ever so grateful that she's here.
Happy Birthday, our beautiful girl.