My beautiful Mary Elizabeth,

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love how strong willed you are because I know that I'll never have to worry about you when you're older. You'll never be anyone's doormat and you'll never settle for a man who isn't worthy of your love.

But I'll be damned if your strong willed-ness doesn't drive Daddy and I absolutely nuts at times. Our day started off well enough. We'd headed to Pots and Mammie's last night after playing all afternoon at Mumsy's on the fun jump. We arrived just in time to start trick-or-treating and you looked absolutely adorable in your "fairy" outfit.

You were given the green light to eat as much candy as your little sweet-toothed self desired and after several hours of sugar high, you finally crashed around 10:00 pm. We woke up around 7:30 am and got busy with getting the boys ready for their soccer games. Once we sent the boys off with Daddy, you and I and Eleanor got ready and I headed to Mimi's to drop you with her. We thought you might enjoy the Homecoming parade more than the boys' soccer games.

And that you did. Mimi said you had a ball ... you caught toys and candy and everyone thought you looked just adorable in your UL cheerleader uniform.

I met up with you at Dude's tailgating spot and you'd just started to throw your first of many temper tantrums of the day. It seemed you weren't at all interested in eating anything of substance and you just weren't going to have Mimi (or anyone else) insist that you put something other than candy into your mouth.

This battle went on for nearly an hour and you shed many a tear and embarrassed us thoroughly with your antics. Screaming, crying, general crabbiness.

My biggest misstep of the day was threatening to take you home and not following through with it. Because God knows, we should have left hours before we actually did.

You eventually ate some boudin and Daddy and I were satisfied enough that you'd put something resembling actual nutrition into your stomach. Apparently we should have insisted instead on something higher in protein because you crashed about two hours later with one of the biggest breakdowns I've ever seen a child exhibit in public. Over a pom pom. A red and white stupid fifty cent pom pom.

You see, you had two of them and you absolutely wouldn't share with Sam. When Mammie had had enough of your attitude, she handed you down the two rows to where Daddy, Eleanor and I were sitting watching the Cajuns. And you just wouldn't stop crying. After we'd gotten embarrassed enough, as you were disturbing everyone within a 20-yard radius, Daddy picked you up to take you upstairs to calm you down.

As Daddy carried you up the stadium stairs, you proceeded to scream at the top of your lungs and kick your legs so hard that you actually hurt him. The people sitting around us thought this behavior (they had no idea Daddy was hurt) was somewhat entertaining and I laughed it off as they gave me sympathetic glances. I suppose you're not the first child to ever throw a fit of epic proportions in public, but nonetheless, it was completely and utterly horrifying to watch you behave this way.

(Daddy later confessed that he was worried the police were going to come and think he was kidnapping you by the way you were screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" at the top of your lungs.)

So here I sit. At my computer. During the third quarter of perhaps one of the most exciting Cajun football games I've ever (not) attended. And pondering how on earth we're going to survive you.

Lucky for us, at some point, you'll be some other poor soul's problem to reign in. And I suspect we've got quite a bit of grooming to do over the next, say, 18 years. Hopefully I'll maintain my sanity long enough to actually do you some good.

But in the meantime, I'm going to remind myself that your hard-headedness really does have its upsides. And for that, I'm grateful.

Love,
Mommy