At six years old you are so smart. You understand how things work and never ask me to change batteries in any toys because you can do it yourself. You have a great memory and can understand abstract concepts that we learn about in school. At the grocery store you and Claire were analyzing the ingredients in various ice cream brands. The conclusion you made was to get one without corn syrup as an ingredient because, as you explained to me, the molecules in corn syrup were probably huge and too complex for your bodies to break down.
Speaking of explaining, around here we call you "The Explainer." You talk incessantly and explain everything that happens in your world to anyone who will listen. One time we were at Dobby and Pawpaw's house and Pawpaw walked in, saw you, and said, "Oh good, Averi Kate's here. I haven't had anybody explain anything to me today."
You have such a kind heart and love to see good things happen to other people. You can make friends anywhere we go. You are a "helper" by nature, and a good one at that. You love life and possess a contentment that is hard to find.
You continue to love gymnastics and all things horse-related. You still haven't learned how to walk yet; you flip, cartwheel, climb, jump, run, or dance everywhere you go. You are accident prone and your poor little feet and toes are all scarred up because you don't ever wear shoes if you don't have to. You're still our barefoot hippie child.
You are funny and can always make us laugh with your silly faces and your contagious smile. Since you are part fairy, I can't always predict the things that are going to come out of your mouth. The other day I was trying to stop the incessant quarreling coming from the back seat, and I said, "Girls, before you do anything else, you have to look at each other and tell what you love about the other person." Much groaning ensued, and then finally Claire said, "AK, I love that you are happy and joyful." You thought about it for a long time and finally came back with, "Claire, I love that you always eat all your supper." Yesterday you came up to me, smiled, sweetly rubbed my back, and said, "Mommy, you look like a frog."
As sweet and fun and funny as you are, there is also a depth about you. You surprise me with your big thoughts and conclusions about life and faith and God. As "the explainer," you always try to make sense of things through analogy. Yesterday was trash pick-up day and you pointed out that the trash was like sin and when the trash truck dumped it into the back it was like God cleaning out a person on the inside.
Your impulsive nature lends itself at different times to beautiful moments of genuine selflessness, passionate outbursts of anger, and heart-stopping (for me) opportunities for physical dares. I still hear crashes from around the house all day followed by shouts of "I'm okay!!!" I was taking pictures of you sitting on your pull-bar and when I was done I tried to help you down. You said, "I'm okay. I can get down by myself." I said, "How are you going to get down?" to which you replied, "You just go inside. I have a way to get down but I don't really want you to watch me."
My verse for you is Proverbs 3:3 - "Do not let kindness and truth leave you. Bind them around your neck; write them on the tablet of your heart." I pray it for you and I see you struggle with it but also growing in it. God is working in your heart sweet girl, and I'm so honored to be a witness to that.
You are my child who can be lying in bed for 30 minutes and then suddenly realize that you forgot to give me or your Daddy a hug. So you'll get up and find us just to hug us and then run back to bed, and AK? I hope you never stop that. Because every time you hug me I am reminded anew of the gift that you are, and I am so very thankful for you.
We love you so much, our sweet, beautiful almost-six-year-old! Happy Birthday!!!
