Happy Birthday, Princess Fiona

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Fiona, you turn four today, but I still remember when you were born. I bought you a little Pooh outfit from Target when you were born. I was still in college and had a flexible schedule, so Amanda had me come over several days a week, mid-day, to watch you and your sister for a couple hours. We were best buds right off the bat. I loved to rock you to sleep at night after feeding you your bottle and waiting until the Spanish song on your lullaby CD to put you in the crib. I loved getting you up in the morning, since we were both early risers, and feeding you oatmeal and baby food, which you often got all over your face! I loved watching you learn to sit, to crawl, to walk. I didn’t even mind walking hunched-over all over Washington, D.C., because you wouldn’t walk unassisted, even though you were 15 or so months at the time. I particularly remember the last day in D.C., when you woke up reaaally early and your family was still asleep, so you and I sat in the living room on my couch-bed, and we watched Prince Charles get married, and then some kid’s program, which you enjoyed more than Prince Charles. I remember having to wear earplugs at night, since your room was right above mine, but I soon got used to your cries. You’ve changed a lot since 18 months, when I moved out of your parents’ house, but you still love to be rocked before going to bed (forgive me for not understanding “I want to wok!”). Now I have to dash off to your birthday party at a park, and marvel at how much you’ve grown since I took you bowling last year. I love you, Fiona.

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