Lulu is 4

Dear Lua,

Tomorrow you turn four years old. In a way, it seems like you have always been this big and grown up - I am having trouble remembering you any other way. You have a way about you that is so...mature. Of course, it is in the midst of a lot of silly behavior. But still, it is definitely there.

The past six months have been devoted to a lot of soul searching on your part. I feel that your mind is taken up entirely with this journey of self-discovery and curiosity about the world around you. Great big questions (Death, souls, God, the Universe) have been swirling around filling up this house like the snow covering the ground outside. The other day you asked me why no one will tell you everything. I said that you go to school to learn about lots of things, and that I would try to answer any specific question you had. You persisted, "But I want to know about EVERYTHING!" I told you that no one knows everything. To which you sighed and replied "I'll ask Daddy."

I never thought I would be discussing such important questions as "Why can't we go visit people when they are dead?" while chowing down on chicken nuggets. We've talked and talked about death, and I've tried to keep it as positive and as un-scary as I possibly can. When we were reading a library book yesterday about a little girl who's grandpa died and you looked at me with a wrinkle in your brow and asked "Why is she sad? It's not sad! He's in heaven." I felt the thrill of victory. But it was quickly followed by apprehension. Surely you are going to start questioning something else soon, like eternity. Or quantum physics. Or taxes.

Age three has been a good year for you. You have started to develop your own friendships, started to play on your own and use your imagination. You and Charlie have even begun playing together, which is like a dream come true for me (Imagine! Being able to do the laundry and mop the floor without someone hanging off of my leg!) Listening to you interact with your brother is the sweetest thing I have ever heard. The first time I heard you say "Come on sweetie!" to him I wanted to kiss your little lips. But you wouldn't have liked that. In fact, you have recently developed a method of "air hugging" in which you can express your love without actually having to touch anyone at all, which works quite well for you. Real hugging is like torture to you - corporal hugging is a surefire way of punishing you for any misdeeds.

Lua, you are absolutely the most beautiful and special little girl I have ever known. You are so smart, so compassionate, so inquisitive and engaged - I know that every year you are going to make your dad and I more and more proud to be your parents. Thank you for being a part of our lives. You make me happy every day. I love you all the way to the sun and back - from your teeniest tiniest skin cell to your "hunormous" soul. You are amazing.

Love,
Mama