It was Gwennie's birthday yesterday. She turned seven. We took her to Build-A-Bear where she decided on a white rabbit which she dressed meticulously. She named her Moze. I don't know where she came up with that name. When I asked her about it, she said she'd heard it on a movie. When I asked what movie, she told me that was classified.
The child makes me laugh harder than anyone else in the world. She is so full of mischief and fun that it is very difficult to discipline her when she needs it. And take my word for it that she needs it. She is so supremely confident. I never see her hesitate for even a moment. It is like pulling teeth to get her to admit she's wrong about something, but when she finally does, she does it in a way that makes you think she's doing you a favor. She lied about something the other day and looked at me so honestly that I almost believed her inspite of overwhelming evidence against her. It was only when I threatened to keep both her and Emma in their rooms until they told the truth that she admitted it to me. And in such a way! "Mommy, well I actually did do that, but it was an accident and I forgot that you told me I wouldn't get in trouble if I just told the truth." *smile*
But when she's happy she's like sunshine. The world is her friend and there isn't a thing she won't bend over backwards to do for you. She'll be the greatest help and the boldest defender to the point that you'll reflect on the argument you had with her a few hours ago and wonder if it wasn't somehow your fault.
But she's a love. No question. And I frequently wonder what good I ever did that made her a part of my life. I can only conclude that it was sexually related, but it seems inadequate.
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