You graduated from preschool yesterday.
Which means you are ready for Kindergarten. For real school. For even more independence and time away from home, without your mama.
You want to be a singer when you grow up, and a make up artist. You have such a keen sense of style. You love to dress up, get your hair done, your nails painted. Glitz and Glamour. You are oh-so dramatic. A diva.
But in so many ways, you are still just a cuddly baby to me. You can still curl up on the sofa, lay your head on my tummy and take a long nap. But I look at you, and those baby cheeks have almost disappeared. You have very few baby words left. I love that you still says W for R. For the longest time your Daddy thought you were talking about a boy called Wiley who played with Barbies. In fact, Wiley is a girl, called Riley.
My snugglebug, my cuddlebug. Growing up much too fast.