At 2:12 in the afternoon, four years ago today, our family of four added the fifth family member. Petite Artiste was the smallest and loudest baby to date. Born on my late Grandmother's birthday, (and also my due date), her arrival into the world was so fast the obstetrician almost missed catching her. A second too late and Miss Petite would have shot out onto the labor room floor. At her first breath, she started wailing. Her cries sounded as if she was protesting and complaining how unfair her ordeal of being born really was. The nurses and doctors joked that somehow she knew she had to be loud being the third child.
To this day, Petite Artiste has continued to possess that fighting spirit with cool, quiet confidence. Although now not as loud as her entry into this world, don't be fooled. When she wants to be heard, she is. Her number one skill is finding bugs no matter how small. She's stubborn as heck yet gentle and loving. She hearts hippopotamuses and french fries. Speaking of junk food, she believes she can survive on potato chips alone. She remembers lyrics to songs in an instant and shakes her groove thang to any beat. She is a free spirit full of sass. And, then some.
True Story: A few months after her big sister was born, her name popped into my mind. Just like that. POP. From that moment on, I knew we would have a third (and last) baby and she would be a girl. She's also a bit of a miracle baby. I've shared this story before, but if we hadn't decided to have a third we might not have decided on a certain minor surgery for Mr. Hawthorne. Wink, wink. On the decision of that unspoken, certain minor surgery his testicular cancer might not have been discovered as early as it had. Not only did Petite Artiste enrich our lives, she saved a life as well.
This Saturday we will be celebrating Petite Artiste in true Circus style. Today, we celebrated her day by sending cupcakes to school and eating out at Red Robin. Although she didn't enjoy the waiters serenade, she did enjoy the sundae to the fullest.
To this day, Petite Artiste has continued to possess that fighting spirit with cool, quiet confidence. Although now not as loud as her entry into this world, don't be fooled. When she wants to be heard, she is. Her number one skill is finding bugs no matter how small. She's stubborn as heck yet gentle and loving. She hearts hippopotamuses and french fries. Speaking of junk food, she believes she can survive on potato chips alone. She remembers lyrics to songs in an instant and shakes her groove thang to any beat. She is a free spirit full of sass. And, then some.
True Story: A few months after her big sister was born, her name popped into my mind. Just like that. POP. From that moment on, I knew we would have a third (and last) baby and she would be a girl. She's also a bit of a miracle baby. I've shared this story before, but if we hadn't decided to have a third we might not have decided on a certain minor surgery for Mr. Hawthorne. Wink, wink. On the decision of that unspoken, certain minor surgery his testicular cancer might not have been discovered as early as it had. Not only did Petite Artiste enrich our lives, she saved a life as well.
This Saturday we will be celebrating Petite Artiste in true Circus style. Today, we celebrated her day by sending cupcakes to school and eating out at Red Robin. Although she didn't enjoy the waiters serenade, she did enjoy the sundae to the fullest.
Happy Birthday my sweet four year old.
It is a pleasure knowing you!!
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