four.

Hadley, Hads, Hadley Jane, H Dizzle, H. Jane, Jane, Janie, Janie & Jack, Miss Jane, J-Woww, J Dizzle, Lulu, Lu, Mama, Sis, Sissy, Sissy Bear...my little girl...you're four today.  Four freakin' years old! 
Before you were born, I never thought I wanted a girl.  I was fine to be a Mama to just boys.  Figured boys were easier.  Boys were tougher.  Boys were better.  I would have bet everything I had that you were a boy...and I was thrilled.  But then out you came, and you were indeed a GIRL...and it was the best surprise of my life.
Now it blows my mind to think that you are four years old (and blows my mind that I wanted a stinky boy!).  Your my favorite little gal and you're getting so grown up.  I am really starting to love everything about you at this age.  Each age always seems to be my favorite (except 1 through 3...kidding), but four really takes the cake. 
Your constant questions blow my mind (and drive me crazy).  You want to know anything and everything about anything and everything.  You are absolutely in awe of the world around you.  It's so much fun and so refreshing to see life through your little golden hued eyes. 
You talk non-stop...literally.  I don't know how you even get oxygen in those lungs.  Sometimes I swear if we're in the car and it gets quiet it's because you passed out.  You have A LOT to say and it almost always makes me smile (and sometimes makes me want to bang my head against the wall).  
When you don't get your way you groan like Marge (from the Simpsons) which is hilarious, you still can't say your 'sp' sounds (sfrinkles, sfoon, and sfecial are just a few of my favorites), and you love the Berenstain Bears, Calliou, and Olivia with a passion.
You are a wonderful student (if Preschool counts), you're great at puzzles, and you're able to write all your letters.  You're really into writing people's names, you love rhyming, and you actually color inside of the lines now...kind of. 
You are getting pretty funny, and a little bit witty.  It will take time.  For example, announcing to people in the produce section of the grocery store that you are 'GOING TO PEE ON EVERYBODY' is neither witty nor funny (much to yours and the Westovers chagrin).  I tried to cover for you by telling the worried on-lookers not to fret, it was actually physically impossible for your little bladder to hold enough urine to get every single person...and that your aim was pretty awful.  They didn't think I was very funny or witty either.  You win some you lose some. 
You're definitely starting to get when we 'tease' you, which is a lot, and I love that you know the difference between us being serious and us pulling your leg.  I think it will help mold you into a great big sister.  No point in having a sibling if you can't tease them and make their life miserable.  Carson hasn't a clue what's in store for him.
I am also watching you gain your independence.  These last few months you've really grown.  You want to swim, do ballet, ski, jump off things, even play soccer.  Who's kid are you?  I'm learning that you can't be pushed into things.  It has to be your idea (ahem, like pooping on the toilet...FINALLY), but once you make up your mind you jump in head first, with gusto, and never look back.  And the pride I feel when I see how proud you are of yourself, well, it gives me a lump in my throat the size of Texas. 
You're always worth the wait. 
Hadley, you are pure joy to be around.  On the days you're not with me, I find myself really missing you.  The quietness is lonely and the clean house is boring.  And although you still can't sit quietly at a restaurant to save your little life, your cry is quite possibly the loudest most awful sound in the world (and not awful in that I feel bad for you, awful as in it makes dogs down the street howl), and you religiously test my patience (and you usually fail, or I do, however you want to look at it)...I wouldn't trade anything about you for anything in the world (okay, maybe for a Land Rover, but only if it had heated seats). 
I love you Hads.  Each year I don't think it's possible to actually love you more than the last...and each year I do.  And that, my dear, is a scary, amazing thing because, my God, do I ever love you right now.  
xoxo
Your beaming with pride (and a little bit exhausted) Mama