Middle

She makes me laugh, even when I shouldn't. She can rock a leotard and cowboy boots like no one else and has a charm that oozes out of every one of her dainty features.

Her imagination and determination will take her to places far beyond both of our dreams, and those dimples will make some poor boy wonder if he ever stood a chance. (He didn't.)

The drama -- oh the drama! -- is never lost on her. The more, the better. There isn't a corner of this house she hasn't used to prove her point, a floor board that hasn't felt her stomp.

Her heart is sensitive, but it is big. Her love is freely given, but she is more eager to receive (a trait Mommy will watch carefully in the years to come...).

Her snuggles in the way-too-early hours are treasured and come second only to her awesome tight-around-the-neck hugs that linger just long enough to make you melt.

Sleep ain't got nothing on her, and the excuses for her late-night ventures outside of her room usually leave us giggling and somehow promising to change Barbie into her pajamas--and tuck her in, of course.

Yes, she is victim of many middle-child parenting tendencies I promised I'd never let happen, but thankfully she is making her own mark on this world and needs little help from me.

Her voice will be heard. Her presence remembered.

I have no doubt.

Kendall, you are the child of my heart, my joy, my sunshine. Don't ever feel forgotten or insignificant. Your light shines bright, my love, and we are all so very blessed to feel its warmth.