Friends

Dear Nora,
Because you are practically a grown-up now, you are making friends. Mostly these friends are people you have known for the better part of your life, but you have recently realized that they are awesome.  Today we went outside even though the weather was gloomy and dumb, and you played with Leah, who lives across the street. By played, I mean you chased/terrified a rolly-polly bug together, exchanged dead grass picked up from the cracks in the driveway (which you ate, then Leah followed suit...I always knew you'd be a leader), and passed balls back and forth. You had an amazing time and were genuinely upset when it was time for lunch.

This past weekend, we visited Mommy's cousins Leslie, Kim, and each of their families.  Leslie and Kim could barely contain their excitement over the adorableness of your face, but you were more excited about Izzy The Dog, a 5 pound ball of fur who wanted nothing to do with you.  You chased her around with fervor anyway.  But, back to my main point: making friends.  Kim's daughter, Maddie, who is 9, came home from playing with her friends, and rather than shy away from her at first as you do with adults, you walked over and hugged her as if she had been your best friend for your whole life. And so you made a friend.

"Mom, I found this fun girl, and I love her and we're best friends!"

You LOVE (love, love, love) little girls.  You first two girlfriends were Abby and Kate, your cousins.  When you were born, Kate told her mom "I think we can take her home, Mommy."  She wasn't kidding. It's a good thing you had one of those alarm things on your ankle or you might have been kidnapped by a 3-year-old.  Abby is a reading rockstar, and last weekend she read you The Pout Pout Fish and the Big Big Dark, which is currently topping the list as your favorite book.  (Daddy and I have it and its prequel memorized, and whenever anyone is grumpy, we say they are "spreading the dreary-wearies all over the place.") You sat right next to her in the chair the whole time and listened to every word.  It's priceless. You hug them, and they hug you, and then you play ring-around-the-rosy, and it makes me get teary-eyed because you look at them the way I looked up to my "big" cousins, too. You didn't get a big sister, but you get big cousins, and they're all really great, so keep them close. Someday they'll be the sharers of your most cherished memories.

You have other friends, too.  We went to the zoo with Alice last week, and you two waved "hi" to each other throughout the stroller rides and exchanged blueberry Puffs during the dolphin show.   We also went to the Children's Museum with Jackson, who is a BOY, and two years older than you, and he loves you. I'm not joking.  He thinks you're the bees knees.  He will have a baby brother or sister any day now, and if it's a girl, he's naming it Nora. I don't think he's considered that his parents might choose another name. (For the record, if it's a boy, the baby's name will be Big Bad Wolf Williams, which is also really nice.)

You and Jackson played nicely in the sandbox together.

 

Lesson Learned: Next time we'll take pictures at the beginning of the zoo trip, not the end.

Samuel is another one of your friends who is a boy. It's okay to be friends with boys. Anyway, the last time you hung out together, we put you in the wagon and walked to the park, and you spent most of the walk examining each other's shoes.  We also babysat for Samuel not too long ago, and you had races with your walker toys.  He won because I stopped you so you wouldn't run into him with your grocery cart.

The Indy 500 has nothin' on the two of you.

Love you, poptart. Thanks for being mine.
Mama

PS: Thank you for pointing to Daddy when we asked you who you wanted to change your diaper.