5/21/2012 (Malia)

Dear Malia -

I don't even know how to begin this letter to you because so much about you has become multifaceted.   Even addressing you as "Lili-Bug" as I usually do when I write these seems somehow like it just doesn't fit you anymore.  I guess that's what happens when a person really begins to "grow up."  As always, you are still strikingly beautiful.  When I look at your face, and I observe that most of anything baby or toddler about you has officially vanished, I see this pretty girl with the amazing eyes and perfect nose dotted with "angel kisses" (as we call them), and the potential to be incredibly appealing physically - and it scares the ever-loving daylights out of me.  Your Grandma Renee (my mother) made an interesting comment regarding this:  "There's a different challenge that people who are physically attractive have to deal with."  While she may be right (I wouldn't know), I think the challenge it will be for your parents to ward off the male species is going to be even more difficult.  And it doesn't help that you have this darn little charming personality to boot!  And brains and talent, as well!  The Lord was not sparing in handing out blessings to you.  Maybe He was trying to make it up to you ahead of time for sending you to this "special case" of a mother...

Last week, when I dropped you off at school, there were 2 days in a row when I pulled up right next to the fence where about 1/2 a dozen kindergarten boys were kicking a soccer ball around.  When one of them caught a glimpse of you running by, I saw him yell your name.  All of the other boys looked up, and followed suit, running to the fence, beckoning for you to come play with them.  You smiled and waved to them, and I could actually see it affect them... and I panicked.   I even had a dream about you going on your first date - as a 6-year-old!  When one of my friends asked me what I thought my subconscious was trying to tell me, I told her it was that I'm going to need to buy a shotgun.  Just kidding!  ... sort of.

Your favorite thing to do in your free time is to create books from scratch.  All I have to do is hand you a pile of printer paper, folded in 1/2 into a booklet, and you will go into a corner with crayons and a pencil and be entertained for hours.  This makes me proud because it is such a creative and smart way to spend your time, but also because someone I know used to love to do the very same thing (me).  There are, literally, 15+ of these books in the other room as we speak, and I even made you throw 1/2 of them away yesterday.  Your current topic of choice is black holes.  Seems a bit of a stretch from the usual ponies, rainbows, & butterflies, but as I mentioned at the beginning of this letter, you are multifaceted.  Hold on to that. 

You've become increasingly sensitive and emotional since the birth of sister #2/child #3.  I can't really blame you, though, since I have too.  I think the transition has been harder for you this time around.  Maybe it's because you're older and more aware.  Maybe it's because the burden of Mommy's occasional meltdowns are becoming your burden.  Or maybe you're just a girl who's coming more into her own, new sister or not, and I just need to brace myself for the potential hurricane of PMS this household is going to experience in the not-so-distant future.  (Your poor father.  I like to think your current interest in "Star Wars" is softening the estrogen-fueled blow a little). You still try so hard to be obedient, as you always have.  You still try so hard to be happy, as you always have.  You are still exceptionally easier to handle than the average child, as you always have been.  But there's something bothering you lately, and when I ask you, you can't express it.  Hopefully it's because you're not sure what it is, and not because you just don't want to tell me.  You've always been so honest with me.  I never want to do anything to make you feel like that can't continue.  

Even though you and CC have been fighting more and more lately, you are still the best kind of big sister.  On Saturday, I took you both to a birthday party while Daddy stayed home with a napping Daphne, and I noticed that Cecily was following you around like a lost puppy dog.  I was concerned you were going to get annoyed (as you often do at home), but you were amazing with her - helping her on slides, getting her a snow-cone, letting her sit by you during games and activities.  On the drive home, I thanked you for being so wonderful with her and you simply said, "Well, I didn't want her to get lost or hurt because she's little."  So sweet.  But also funny because, even though you are still a few inches taller than her, you only weigh 3 pounds more than her.

I can see you light up in those few moments when you and I are alone, while your sisters are both napping.  I will try my best to always have alone time with you, even if I have to write it on a calendar.  Lately, that time has been when I take you to dance class on Saturdays.  You love dancing.  You love music.  You love singing.  The other day, as I was singing and playing the piano, you came over and joined me.  You didn't know the song at all, but you read along and sang (the wrong notes) along with as much gusto as you could muster.  It was totally off pitch and totally loud, but it totally melted my heart.  If there's one thing I do right, I hope it's to teach you to love music as much as I do.  It will buoy you up in the darkest of times.  That and the Gospel.  So, 2 things.  Hopefully, I do 2 things right.  The Savior and music.  With those things, this life will be endurable for you.  

 You are nearing the end of kindergarten, and it really is bringing to light for me the old cliche' of "they really do grow up fast."  You're excited about being able to play on the big kid playground next year.  I haven't decided how I feel about you being at school for twice as long as a 1st grader.  I'm not sure how I feel about saying I'll have a 1st grader.  Please slow down.  I'm not ready.

Love, 

Mom