Dear Sugar Bee,
I'm writing this to you on Valentine's Day, a holiday I never much cared about. Neither when I was younger and we had to pass out those store-bought snoopy valentines. Nor when I was older and not dating anyone. Nor when I was dating or married to your aba. He never remembered and I never cared enough to remind him. But you know what? Now it means the world to me. Because yours was a labor of true love, starting on Valentine's Day and ending bright and early on the 15th of February, thus guaranteeing a lifetime of half off roses and candy for your birthday.
I can't say this has been an easy year sunshine, what with you trying to push me off a mental cliff and send me to an early grave having pulled out all my hair. But it's not really all your fault, I mean, you being a kid and all. I can think of a lot of situations with you that I would have handled differently. But these last few months have been a good stretch, wouldn't you say? More love. Less sass. But you are a sassy little miss aren't you and I have to admit I like that quality in you. We just have to harness it and direct it toward other people besides me. And maybe you could work on being less compulsive about your high ponytail. Just a thought.
You have had some pretty big accomplishments this year too, Sugar Bee. Namely you stopped sucking your thumb. That was TOUGH since it's attached to the rest of your hand. And you also lost two teeth. The tooth fairy apparently knew where to find us in Israel. Lucky break. And you started to write letters in Hebrew and English. Just the start of all that but it's nice to see you're interested in writing. Maybe when you're older we can have long impassioned conversations about fonts.
For this next year I wish for you many blessings. I hope you continue to love your family the way only you can. Because it's kind of a drug for us now. We need the daily dose. Especially your baby brother who thinks even your farts are magical. Your big brother thinks you're pretty awesome too, when you are not tormenting each other. As for me and Aba, well we marvel at the bright, witty, helpful, loving girl you have become and the clever, wicked, chaotic, snarky girl who peeks out too. Indeed we love every part of you. Happy number six.
Mieces to pieces,