HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MIA!

You're six. Technically, you're still 5 because you were born at 11:45 am PST on October 4, 2001. But I suppose that's splitting hairs.

You bring us so much happiness and laughter and FUN. You're a beautiful, smart, sassy and STUBBORN (shush, people, I know where she gets that) little, I guess I mean big, girl. And though we wish we could stop time to hold you at this amazing age of discovering and learning and lovey doveying - I realize the age where I'm not your favorite person rapidly approaches - we can't.

So here's a picture of you this morning in your new skirt that Grammy got you for school (that I still had to cinch in at the waist with those elastic/button thingies - and why did it take so long for someone to figure out to do that, because it's the best thing EVER for skinny kids) and with your big strong hunka hunka Marine Daddy who loves you more than Rubio's fish tacos. And would probably give up his right arm, the Wii and the PS3 if you signed documents saying you'd never become a boy-crazy teenager.
I have to admit, even though it does make me cringe a little, your recent discovery of how "cute" boys are makes me smile. Last night we went to Chili's after your request to go there (Dad has a 10-mile hump at 6:30 tonight so he won't be home to celebrate with us), and the Turner family joined us. The Turner family is made up of beautiful Hawaiian mom, Kanoe and Marine Dad John and 3 gorgeous kids, Cole, Natalie & Ella (almost 7-yr-old Cole & 5-year-old Natalie are on Mia's soccer team, Ella is 2 and ADORABLE). Mia sat at a 2-person booth with Cole and behaved like quite the young lady. I couldn't help but get a flash of things to come watching her & Cole talk and color together at the separate table. Eventually Ella & Nat joined them, squeezing into the little seats they were on, because they didn't want to be left out & sitting with - ew - grown-ups.

We had such a nice night, and Mia declared, "Cole is so cute!" and the immediate, "HEY there, easy on the 'cute' - he's a nice boy and all but I don't know that you need to go and start with the 'cute' and everything there, kiddo..." came from her father like a recording.

Yep. The prediction stands. About eight years from now he'll be on the front porch polishing his rifle and wearing a wife-beater and his camouflage pants when her date comes to call.