When she learned to sit up, she was happy! For about 2 weeks. Then she started crying again. She cried and cried until she learned to scoot around. Mobility made her happy. For about 2 weeks. Then, the crying started again. Finally, she learned to walk. The crying was over. We figure that she was crying because she knew what she wanted to do, and her body wouldn't do it yet.
After she was a year old, we could tell she was different. This was the smartest little girl I'd ever been around. She potty trained early, started reading early, wrote her name crazy early and was tuned in to every word that anyone said. I remember driving into Kansas City with mom in the passenger seat and Monica in the back seat. I told Mom, "Sometimes, she's so smart it's scary." That little 18 month old girl said, "Raawwrrrr!" like a monster. Yup, she was listening.
Now, that baby girl is 15. It's time to get her driver's permit. She's in high school. She's a beautiful young woman, still as smart as anyone I know, and funny, too. She's jumpy and easy to startle if you need entertainment. She's unique and strong-willed and kind hearted. She worries too much, stands up for the under dog, and plays guitar like nobody's business.
She likes the Beatles and Green Day and chocolate. She keeps her room messy and spends too much time getting ready for school and can sleep for 14 hours in a stretch on the weekends. She works hard in June and July and saves her money for something important to her. She likes to bake but not to clean up the kitchen.
In many ways, she's a typical teenager. In many MORE ways, though, she's totally individual. Her hair color and style changes frequently, but not to match others around her. It changes with her whim. She can pull it off, too. Even when I botch a dye job, she likes it, styles it, and it's cute. She doesn't let ANYONE mess with her family. Some day, this girl will rule the world.
Happy Birthday, Monica. I love you.