Turn the Page

Most people will be watching the Superbowl this weekend. Those of us who are die-hard fans for either the Arizona Cardinals or the PITTSBURGH STEELERS will be watching avidly, cheering and jeering for about four hours. Some will look at the statistics and choose a team to root on based on who has the best defense, the better quarterback, or maybe someone like Fast Willie Parker or Troy Polamalu who's just everywhere. I'm just sayin'.

I'll be right alongside my husband and brother-in-law cheering the Steelers on. But we have a very important event around here that will transpire the day prior to the big game. A smart, funny, and whimsical little girl is turning four.

Her Yaya (pronounced yeah-yeah) will be taking Beth, Bubba, myself, her daughters and two other grandsons out to lunch at McDonald's where we'll also have cupcakes. Then we'll spend the afternoon at the house until the guys get back from the midday golf outing - originally meant to be an afternoon with my husband and his dad, sort of a final father-son outing, but it turned into my husband tagging along as my father-in-law goes golfing with his stepson-in-law and some other guy we don't know. Whatever. After they get back, we'll have the real cake and open presents.

I just can't believe four years have passed since I had my first baby. Is she really turning four? How is that possible? I was looking at old pictures when we were packing up the old place, just a couple of weeks ago, and when she was born we still didn't have a digital camera, so all her baby pictures are actually in photo albums. There's one picture of her sleeping on my chest, just a wee newborn, all curled up, mouth hanging open, and looking like the coziest baby on earth. Now, if I stretch her out to lay her head on my chest, it's like hugging a German Shepherd. She's huge in comparison to four years ago.

Her hair is thick and gorgeous and hangs down to the middle of her back. When she was three months old, all her baby hair fell out and she looked like an 80-year-old man. Her eyes were so dark when she was born, they were almost purple. Now she's big ol' doe eyes that shine a caramel-coffee color. She has really fair skin with a rosy glow and a smile that lights up a room. She's overcome a speech delay, having barely said three words by the time she was two. Now we can't pay her to be quiet. She's become such an integral and vibrant part of our life that we can't imagine life without her.

So in case I get wrapped up in something else tomorrow, forget to blog, or decide to hack out a Friday Chronicles post, happy birthday, Beth. You're an awesome little girl who's going to take over the world someday. We love you.