Happy Birthday Diva!

Diva is four. Four whole big, short, long miniscule years. It seems a lifetime ago that she was born. But just last week she was a sleeping little gorgeous lump. I hate to admit that I go into her room at night after she's asleep because it reminds me of how little she still is. When she's sleeping she can't say words like 'fabulous' phrases like 'you're making this the worst day of my life'. When she's sleeping she still has the face I remember watching sleep right after she was born. I cling to her being my baby.

Her daddy was sweet enough to record himself singing her happy birthday before he went on lock down. I think it made her day. She pretends not to notice he's not here, but when she has time to let her mind take over she is really bothered that he's gone.

And mommy was evil. Mommy made her get shots. She told mommy when shopping for cupcake ingredients "I don't ever want to go back to that kid doctor cause they hurt me" complete with a perfect pout. Well, chicklet, mommy didn't intentionally hurt you....and boy is mommy in for a tongue lashing in a couple days when you figure out that you have to go back and get three more.

And of course, in Diva fashion, no birthday would be complete without turning yourself into a pixie and spreading pixie dust all over the house. If her Poppa was here he'd be covered in glitter and sparkles right now. Sister had issues sharing all of her new fun dress up costumes. Our next splurge will be a trunk or chest for all these tutus, fairy wings and dresses!