She is always hungry. Always. She is never tired. Or so she says. You know that is not true, however. When she gets tired, she gets these deep dark black circles under her eyes. So dark, in fact, that she looks like she’s been punched in the face. And she gets cranky when she is tired. Even more so when she is sick. You don’t want to be around her when she is sick. She will follow you from room to room loudly lamenting the unfairness of her lot in life. As a matter of fact, she is always the first one to point out any unfairness she comes across in life—actual or made up in her ever-working little brain.
She is beautiful. Perhaps I am biased, but I don’t believe so. She has a smile that lights up her entire face. She may be selective with who she will share that smile with, but when she gives you the gift of one of her gorgeous grins you sense that you have been given a true treasure. She has a giggle that comes from her toes. She also has a screech that can easily pierce eardrums from across the room. She is loud. Loud like no child I have ever met.
She is also shy. Painfully shy. She is unsure of herself in social situations. You want to reach out and grab her and hold and shield her from any scrutiny she might receive, real or imagined. But you don’t grab her and hold her. You know she needs to do this on her own. She needs to face these fears. She has to learn to be comfortable in her own skin. Really, that’s all you want for her. To be comfortable being the extraordinary child you see. The child she might hide from the rest of the world, but the child you are blessed enough to know intimately.
She is smart. Quick. She doesn’t think she is as smart as her twin brother because he is a better reader. Better at math. Better at picking up on things quickly. Sophie takes her time. She studies situations. She approaches a problem with a thoughtful diligence that you can only admire. She is careful. Mindful. You wish she would not compare herself to her brother. She has an amazing intellect. She has always had a way with words—a propensity for language—that is beyond her years. She devours books just like you did as a girl. You wish you had more time to read to her.
She is a cuddler. A lover. Even at five years old, she likes nothing better than to cuddle up on in your lap. She wants hugs. And kisses. And back rubs. She wants to put a cover over your head and make the world cease to exist except for a giggly little girl and her momma in a “tent”.
She is this amazing girl who is both 100% tomboy and an absolute princess at the same time. She is a phenomenon to behold. You are infinitely thankful that you are one of her inner circle. One of the few she allows to have intimate knowledge of everything she is. Everything she can be.
She is a wonder.