Twelve

Yesterday was Darla's twelfth birthday. She was gracious enough to share the day with Harry and we had a double party at the Pier. She is old enough now that I no longer have to hold her hand in the huge crazy carny crowd or stand in line with her for rides, and young enough that she still needs a nap on the way home. Dar has been independent since the age of 3 and dramatic since the moment she was born. Here are other things I find inspirational on a daily basis.

She has been in the gifted class at school since 2nd grade.

She talks in her sleep and once said "Mrs Sandoyen, Mrs Sandoyen I love you so much" (Mrs Sandoyen was her third grade teacher).

She decided in 3rd grade that she wants to go to Yale Drama School.

She loves to sleep and does it well. I could blow a tuba directly into her ear and she would not wake up.

She can start a conversation with anyone, but at a crowded party she is always drawn to the oldest person in the room. She once had an hour long conversation with an 8o year old man when she went up to him and asked what's your favorite movie?

She can cry real and convincing tears if you ask her to.

She can fold her tongue into a three leaf clover.

She had trigger finger until she was 5 (where your last three fingers get curled closed so your pointer and thumb look like a gun) when she had surgery to have it corrected.

She refused to say the Pledge of Allegiance at school because she insisted she was French.

Happy Birthday Dar.

So much.