My Youngest.

A ball of fire, and a tireless predatory female.

I have to admit it.  There are times she is way too cute to punish.  When she is the most angry, and she stomps off after the obligatory, “Yes, Suh!”, it is almost impossible to keep the smile off of my face.

She wants so badly to be as big as the eight-year-olds, and she can’t understand why we don’t always let her go with them.  She constantly runs up against the brick wall that is my wife, and gets so angry she can’t see straight.  Despite her frustrations, though, this child is the most clear about the best thing she has by living with us–her momma. 

She starts kindergarten this year, and I can’t wait to see how she does.  I do feel sorry for the boys, or at least as sorry as I can.  She is a tenacious flirt and is hopelessly enamored with whatever cute boy happens to be around at the time.  She does however swoon most for one of our middle-schoolers at church.  He takes it all in stride, and is wonderful with her. 

I struggle with trying to reign in some of her attachment to the boys, because it is so cute and generally harmless.  I do try my best to teach her appropriate ways to express herself and to convince her that “hugging” and “clinging” are not synonymous terms.  Still, her spirit and outgoing nature are to be admired, not limited.

I am so thankful that we have these children, but I feel especially blessed that the “baby” is a five-year-old, and not an infant.  She is exactly what I needed as my youngest.  

Agape–or at least the best I can do,

Chris