Dearest Hadley,
Happy 6th birthday! I’ll admit it: I debated skipping my annual birthday letter for you due to our crazy schedule but realized I treasure being able to look back upon the high- and low-lights of your previous years.
And also because my memory sucks and I’ll soon be like an old granny who croaks out, “Hadley was five? Don’t they go to kindergarten around that age?”
This was the Year of the Cat. In fact, in your eyes, you never really lived until Remy came into your life and mommy refers to those days as B.C. (Before Cat). We got Remy in October as a band-aid to help ease the pain of your Grandma and Grandpa unceremoniously ditching us moving to Utah. From Day 1, he has been your end-all, be-all. He is patient, snuggly, loving and obese (hence his nickname “Fat Kitty.”)
One morning when we were snuggled up in my bed, I opened up the window but kept the blinds partially drawn. In a decidedly ambitious move for a Fat Kitty, Remy made a move to hop up on the window sill…and would have been successful had he not slammed into the blinds like a fly on a windshield.
You and mommy hysterically laughed whiled he slunked away. It was then I just knew we would have many wonderful bonding years making fun of your father and brother. In a word?
PUMPKIN.
Kindergarten was kind to you. You adore your glamorous teacher Ms. Pancoast and are learning to read and write. You are one of the best artists in your class and are thrilled to attend a week-long art camp this summer.
Math, on the other hand, completely baffles you. One day after a particularly frustrating attempt at teaching you numbers, Daddy shared his epiphany with me:
“Amber, do you know what her problem is? She has my lack of aptitude for math and she has your lack of patience.”
This is just his nice way of saying you are doomed.
You’ve never been one to waste your time on woosy dolls and would rather spend hours playing with your umpteen stuffed animals and dinosaurs. You recently learned to ride your bike and just last week you conquered The Big Hill near our house. Your sass and imagination help you concoct vivid tales and ghost stories. And don’t even get me started with just how competitive you are whilst playing Super Mario on the Wii.
Your brother has the battle wounds to prove it.
Last year, you took a dance class at school (moderately enjoyable), two sessions of skating lessons (double axel is for amateurs) and absolutely kicked butt on the ski slopes (watch out Lindsey Vonn). In fact, skiing is the one sport you are passionate about and are already skiing intermediate-level runs.
You adore traveling and announced you want to travel the world with me when you’re 16. I got you a globe for Christmas and we love plotting our route. The boys are, of course, invited. But only if they can get over this pumpkin obsession.
And so long as they don’t mind being mocked–like a fat cat on a windscreen.
Here’s to many wonderful adventures in the year ahead, my beloved Hurricane Hadley.
Love,
Mommy
P.S. For a stroll down memory lane, read birthday letters 5, 4, 3, or 2.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 