L turned eight two weekends back, and in lieu of a friend-party she opted for a day with mom&co. we baked early morning cinnamon streusel muffins, which she ended up not crazy about ('it turns out i'm not actually a cinnamon person'), then fashioned a birthday crown and took a trip to the farmer's market. our yield from the market: sweet rolls, peppers, a square of naan.
back home, we snipped and pasted fairy wings for the fall party at church, played a game of twins memory (where L creamed everyone) and kicked back with pizza and a movie, living-room-picnic style.
but back to the twins memory game for a second. i love the pieces, they're wood blocks printed in germany, but the game itself makes me crazy. for one thing, they're fraternal twins, boy-girl duos, and while most of the matches are obvious, with a few i can't tell who belongs together. so the whole time L is saying, ooh! i know that one! and i'm all, how on earth can i find this guy's match when i don't even know who he goes with?
so this is L, with her tower of matches twice the size of everyone else's. for the record: i did come in second. it was hard, people.
at eight, you are a heap of personality. you're an expert talker, you love to sing, you have a robust repertoire of corny aunt kristin jokes. you've a flair for the dramatic and you sweep about the house belting out operas in full costume. you adore reading. crafts. baking and silly poems and painting rocks and making things.
you're the lone girl in a sea of brothers, and though no one ever bends to your mothering attempts, you remain happily undaunted. you're often quick to share, you love to help, and i see sprigs of kindness and courage pushing through. i'm praying you'll be so in love with Jesus you can't even see straight, and that this love will spill out big on the people around you.
you're SO much fun and i'm glad for the years i have you close.
also, you cannot date till you are thirty. or married. or BOTH, both is better.