My sweet Emery,

Today we celebrated your dad's birthday. Although you're still so small, you somehow made it much more special than before. You spent the morning in his arms, your tiny little fingers holding his, giggling every time he made a silly face at you. You babbled away too, as if you had a very important speech to give, although I knew it was the best way your father could start his morning. I think you're going to have a career where you talk a lot; perhaps a reporter, or even a professor.

When we brought out the cake (made by your aunt and uncle, of course), you were absolutely enchanted by the flickering candle. You reached for it with both hands, determined to grab it, and let out the sweetest squeal when you dad pulled you away from it. You'll have your own candle to blow out soon enough, in just a few short months.

Stop growing up so fast.

Yours always,
Mama

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   Millie Potts