Ah, my little Astair. You are all butterflies and roses. Lipstick and pretty poses. Sweetness and independence rolled up into one dainty package. And though you are tender, you're still one tough cookie. You will hold your own with three brothers. I don't worry about you. There's a strength that you possess, a self-assuredness and independence that is tempered so beautifully with a gentle and quiet spirit. You are my adventurous one, my curious little cupboard sifter, my happy-go-lucky easily entertained momma in training. Everyday you ask momma to show you the baby in my tummy. You pat him with your little hands and give him smooches. You are going to love being a big sister.
