Dear Pepper


Everyday I tell you I love you, but do you know why? Well, there are so many reasons. They are difficult to count. But, I'll try anyway. 

I love that you stand up for yourself. You are unafraid of expressing your feelings and concerns with friends, teachers, and family. And you do so respectfully. Most of the time.

I love your passion for learning. You are so hungry to learn how things work and why things happen. Most importantly, you enjoy reading the Marvel Encyclopedias in our home to increase your knowledge of that comic book universe. You make your daddy proud.

I love that you still want to hold my hand, but you also want to do things for yourself. I'm not sure how you were able to pour a cup of milk for yourself without spilling. From a full half gallon. 

I love that you say you're busy instead of dizzy. 

I love that you share your own original songs. Sometimes those songs include your own beats, which make them even better. I look forward to the day that those songs actually make sense. 

I love that you give really big hugs. I do worry that you will choke one of us out with one of these hugs at some point. 

I love that you love superheroes. And princesses. And Sesame Street. And dolls. And your work bench. May you always be so well-rounded and diverse in your interests. 

I love that you enjoy yogurt and granola. Every morning for breakfast. Every morning.

I love how you can't tell knock knock jokes. And consistently give your hiding spot away playing hide and seek. 

I love that you bring happiness to the faces of people on the subway. Bringing joy to those who need it most is a blessing.

I love that you look up to Misty Copeland and Skylar Diggins, two outstanding role models who don't shy away from that responsibility.

I love that you still like stories while you make a poop. However, you need to understand that I can't always be my most creative when I'm dealing with that odor of yours. And how does someone so small generate so much poop? Seriously, it doesn't seem possible.

I love your laugh. Especially the laughs that give you the hiccups.

I love how you stick up for me and look out for my health. Your reminders to take my allergy meds are more about your concern than your desire to go to the playground.

I love your hair because it is a beautiful representation of my love for your mother. May those inevitable tangles remind you of the pain and anguish so many who loved someone of a different race had before the union between your mother and me.

I love you, Pepper, because you are comfortable with who you are. Keep busting up stereotypes. May that never change.