Dear Scarlett,
Yikes, it's been a long time since I wrote you a letter. As usual, there is just a lot going on, and I'm spending more time living life than recording it. But I want to do both.
We've been in our new house for a month now, and it's still under construction. Every day around 8am, the doorbell rings and the workers file in. There are tilers, deck builders, glass installers, plumbers, electricians, cabinet makers, and painters. You and Dad leave for school and work, and the workers and I settle into our day. I know them all by name, and I'm honestly going to miss them when the house is done. It will seem awfully quiet. On the plus side, I won't have to put on pants.
For the past several months, I've been very busy with your school fundraiser. In the weeks leading up to the March 8 event, it truly became a full-time job. I really enjoyed doing it, especially being on a team with some wonderful moms from school who have become good friends. And the event was a huge success, raising lots of money for your school! But it was also exhausting, in a lot of ways, and I'm glad that it's over. Now I can focus on all the things I've been neglecting. Like writing and showering. Just kidding. Showering is overrated.
The house is looking great. We were out on the deck last night, watching the sun set over the ocean, and it was so peaceful that I didn't really worry all that much when Dad found an open switchblade lying on a pile of wood planks. I also didn't really worry that the fence is not done, and with one wrong move, any of us could have fallen over the edge and landed on the house below ours. The reason for my calm is that you are nearly four years old, and you understand rules and safety better than ever before. You continue to get more helpful and to be a better listener. It's a huge relief. I mean, I'm not sure I trust that you'd know what to do with a switchblade, but that's probably a good thing.
Your birthday is on Sunday, and we'll be celebrating at the Randall Museum with a ventriloquist and his crow puppet. Seriously, just typing that creeps me out. But I've been assured that it's a perfect show for your age group, and you will be invited onto the stage during the performance, which will no doubt be hilarious.
Dad and I are having a difference of opinion regarding your birthday party. When he turned 4, he was allowed to invite 4 guests to his party. You invited 41. I have endured jokes about it being your quinceanara, your coming out party as a debutante, and your wedding. Nothing will deter me from throwing you a rocking party, though. ROB.
This weekend we went to Tahoe with Leon and his family, and the two of you had a great time skiing while the grown-ups (Leon calls us "growing ups") relaxed in the 70 degree weather and tried to spot you coming down the mountain. There is something so incongruous about watching your child ski while you are sweating in a tank top. It's been a weird winter. And an absolutely awesome one.
Love,
Mom
