Kate enters the fours

Dearest Kate,
My heart aches as I begin this letter. It aches with joy. Pure joy for each moment we have shared. And it aches from fear. Fear that the moments are passing by too quickly. We all loved the baby cake (as some called you). We were in awe with the 1 year old Kate...the little Aunt Kate who raced up to people at the tender age of 14 months and said, "Whatchadoing?" and we all were smitten with the 2 year old Kate. At the young age of 2 you were so completely silly and smart, that most strangers were astonished. And 3. How I have loved you as a 3 year old. This past year you have been more together than most adults I know. You have a heart full of love for everything. And your dad and I even learned to love your tiny short-lived tantrums complete with "shit mommy" and "shit daddy". We have watched you tumble and play with Charlie and all of his friends, sit and participate through hours of Charlie's kindergarten, and create entire worlds on your own. We have observed you run laps around the soccer field, only to stop to pick flowers, admire butterflies or engage in your endless monologues.
Your ability to handle the world around you amazes me. You are able to stick to your guns when it is important, yet let other things roll off your back. Most of the time you are able to do a delicate dance around your brother who at times can be a bit moody. At the same time you have watched your brother excel in every sport and have somehow been able to be his biggest fan rather than feel jealous that you can hardly throw a shoe in a basket. Your sense of humor is incredible, and honestly I feel lucky to get to spend time with you. I feel as if you are a long lost friend from another life. We cook and clean side by side, weave in and out of various characters as we navigate our days together, and truly laugh at all the funny, stupid, and ridiculous things we encounter everyday.
Your perfectly round red lips catch my eyes everything you talk, laugh, dance, draw, focus. Your curly, wispy hair that doesn't seem to grow melts my heart. And your freckles. It sometimes takes all of my strength not to hug you all day. Your eyes are the most beautiful color of blue I have ever seen.
And you have the best taste in friends already. For the first few years of your life your friends were Charlie's friends. And you were just fine with that. But with the start of nursery school and art class you quickly found your own way. And you have gravitated towards amazing little girls and boys, and I hope this is something you always do.
You are not always easy, although your overall character is the most calm, level-headed, and easy going I have ever come across. But like us all, you do break down time to time. And as I watch you deal with your stress all I can do is learn from it. You scream, make your point, let your voice be known, and move on. It is like a harsh rainstorm immediately followed by sunshine and a rainbow. With the exception of the way you pretend to throw things when mad, I think we can all learn from you.
Kate, when I see you, I see myself. I remember being so little yet feeling like I owned the world. I remember feeling so secure and so loved and so on top of the world. I hope that is how you feel. Tonight when I was putting you to bed I had to get up and do something and Alex started to stir. When I came back in the room I saw your small, delicate hand patting his back, getting him back to sleep. As I tickled your arm and sang our songs you started to tear up because you missed Charlie (who is at a soccer game with your dad). How someone so little has so much compassion is beyond me.
We have been together for 3 full years, plus 9 months in the womb, yet I can hardly remember life before you. Today when I came home from work you stormed out of our house in your pajamas and did the cutest little sassy dance all the way to our gate...and my heart ached. I don't want you to grow up anymore. So far the first month of 4 has been wonderful, but I am not done reveling in your 3 year old awesome self.
I love you Kate. I love the way you love and care for Alex. The way you look up to Charlie. I love the way you become Corda, Sarahleah, Sensa, Nadia. I love the way you play, and paint. I love the way you scrub floors, play in dirt, and can entertain yourself forever with some flowers out front. I love the way you love to snuggle and hold your daddy. I love all the letters "you don't have" as Charlie says. I love your spunk, your strength, and your fire. I love the way you tell it like it is, live every day to its fullest, and light up every room you are in.
I love you Kate.