That is the clearest picture I can paint of my daughter.
She is a princess who insists on having her toenails painted when I am doing mine. She plays with barrettes and tries to make my hair pretty. She loves a pretty dress and a flouncy skirt, and insists on choosing her own clothes. Hairstyles don’t last very long with her, because she spends so much time reaching up to feel how pretty she is.
But she jumps from the furniture. She wrestles with her father. She loves nothing more than spinning in the desk chair or being thrown in the air. She can throw a ball farther than you would think, with a shout of “Datch!” She has a toy truck she loves to ram into the entertainment stand, and headbangs to her father’s music.
She carries around a doll while she plays on her “electric guitar”. She loves to help her father do the dishes and cook; she chases the cat around the house and tackles him with a hug.
She can smack fairly hard, and bites like a champ. But her kisses are the sweetest thing you can imagine, and her hugs could initiate world peace.
She has these enormous violet-blue eyes, and a pointy little chin; a dimple high on her left cheekbone, and curling dark blonde hair. Strangers cannot resist saying hi to her, smiling at her, and she blows them a kiss and makes their day.
She says, “I love you, Mama,” and always thanks you. She knows you have to say please to get something, and is obsessed with her toothbrush. She roars like a lion, and is the cutest baby elephant you have ever seen. She cannot pass up a dog, no matter the size, and is very good about letting us ask the owner if she can pet it. She runs around like a madman and sleeps with a purple Care Bear.
My daughter is a vision of opposites. She is named for not only two strong and brave women, but also a flower that is both beautiful and hardy. She is the adventurer, the charmer, the puppy, and the princess all rolled into one gorgeous package. I am so lucky to be her mother.
*From "The Yellow Violet" by William Cullen Bryant.