Lydia, the day before your birthday I am lying on the coach watching an episode of House when you come and lie next to me. You watch for a bit but the show is a bit boring for a near seven year old so you get up and go to bed. It is such a small moment showing both your tenderness and maturity. It is such a small moment showing mine. I am so happy with the person you are becoming.
Earlier in the day we are sitting at Baskin Robbins me deciding to get you the adult scoop instead of the kids scoop. You picked candy ice cream which has is mostly blue with some orangish streaks in it. To me it looks, well, interesting. To you it is a favorite. As you eat it we sit in silence. A comfortable silence but silence nevertheless. This is in part because I don’t really talk a lot and in part because it is harder for you to express yourself in English. So I ask you what is your favorite animal and you say “lion”. When I asked for your least favorite animal you have a hard time coming up with it and eventually land on snake or spider. We move to favorite color. An enthusiastic vote for Pink. Least favorite. Hmmm, nothing appears to jump to your mind and after a while you say Brown. It was then that it dawned on me that you are not a cynical or negative person. Well, heck, I guess you are a bit young to be a cynic but you know what I mean. Well, maybe you don’t. There are plenty of kids who are pretty sure what they don’t want or don’t like. Ask them what their least favorite animal and colors are and they will know right away, with passion.
You are not there yet and hopefully won’t be. You are the little girl who goes toy shopping at Kaku who first finds what she likes before worrying about what she can get. If there is nothing you like that day or what you like is more than that day’s budget, you move on.
Lydia and company sing happy birthday–notice Yang’s mom covering her ears
You are the girl who screamed her on happy birthday with her friends. You are the girl who leads her friends into Starbucks, asks for cups of water, and dumps sugar packets into them. You are the girl that gets and idea in her head, goes to her desk, and tells a story with a picture. You are the girl that hugs me when you come home. You are the girl that is daddy’s girl.