Sugar and spice, and everything nice...WHAT?!?! That's what they told me little girls were made of. My dear Parker, I'll give you a little sugar, a LOT of SPICE (like cayenne pepper maybe) and everything nice, well, that one's tough. You are three now and you are three times trouble. I often tell you that either your middle name is trouble or that I spell trouble P-A-R-K-E-R. You are all attitude, weather you're being bad (often), argumentative (also often), sweet (usually right after bad/argumentative), or charming, you do it all with attitude. Daddy and Grandma Jackie like to blame me, but I think I'll pass the buck, you get your "spice" from the Kipp side of the family, and maybe some of your Grandma Joan in there too! The problem is, you are so stinking gorgeous it's hard to get really mad at you, although we have mastered the ability to do it. At school Miss Deb and Miss Angie tell me how sweet you are, and how smart you are. They tell me that you are very good at following directions. Of course, I know you're smart. You impress (and distress) me daily with your smarts. Last week when we were trying to teach Payton her phone number, you picked it right up along with her. You were bumped up to the 3 turning 4 year old class room when you were 2 because you were too far ahead of those 2 year old "babies" in the other room. I had a "portfolio review" with Miss Deb just yesterday where she went on and on about you, I don't know what you do to her, but she believes you are the bee's knees. She bragged and bragged about your cutting skills and a cute little house you had built by yourself out of popsicle sticks. I have to laugh as she brags about how well you cut, since I've found little snips out of TWO of your favorite dresses. At home you're forbidden to touch scissors, but apparently she's got you trained well at school. You've learned to open the fridge on your own, so you think you can help yourself to anything you find. When you go missing we always know there's trouble to be found.
Grandma Jackie calls you "Me Too". You really don't have any concept that you are two years younger than Payton. You believe, and for the most part do, everything she does. I'm not sure how you're going to handle her going to kindergarten next year, you are both going to miss the other one an insane amount. You are dying to "go to soccer" because we told Payton that she's going to learn to play soccer at school next year. I mentioned to Payton that she could get her ears pierced if she'd stop sucking her thumb, and you’ve decided that you want your ears pierced and there's no need to wait since you don't suck your thumb. Now I hear it about every 30 minutes, "Mommy, get my ears pierced NOW?!?!" It was hell waiting for your birthday to roll around, you were certain the whole time we were planning and celebrating Payton's last month that it was also your birthday. And the funniest little sister/big sister recent story is that last week I heard Payton SCREAMING from upstairs "MOMMY, MAKE HER TAKE MY DRESS OFF, I WANT TO WEAR THAT!!!!!" Oh boy, it's gonna be a looong 15 years. The only relief I see is that your feet are going to outgrow Payton's in the next couple months, and well, we do have a LOT of clothes, so hopefully we can find something you will both like every day that isn't the same item. Soon enough Payton will be in uniforms at school and it won't be such an issue.
With all of this said, you are the light of my life, you make me laugh and cry. Each morning you wake me up about 7, and when it's not a school day that gives us an hour or so before anyone else is up in the house. Sometimes I put on cartoons for you and go back to sleep. But other times we have fun together snuggling, or making eggs or playing together. As much as I hate to be up at such an hour, I do love a little one on one time with you. I can't wait to see what your future holds Baby Girl.
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