Oh, my Millie.  What a sweet little four year old.  Sometimes I look at her or carry her or hug her and think, "Please, oh please, just stay a four year old forever."  That's not in the cards, and I know that.  But today, I am compelled to record everything she is in this moment of time.

I love her fake whistle.  It literally sounds like this:  "Weeeeeee-weet!"  Her fake laugh is pretty rad, too.

It is sometimes annoying (like when I am trying to get the shampoo out of her hair), but Mills still doesn't know how to voluntarily close her eyes.  Instead, she puts her fingers over her them.  I am not sure what is going on there.  She is already learning how to read and is very worldly for a 4 year old, so it's not like she's lacking smarts.  At any rate, even through my frustration, I think it's cute as hell.

Even though some of her friends aren't huggers, I love that SHE is.  In fact, I think it should be a title of hers.  Millie Mefford, Hugger...just like Barack Obama, President of the United States.  I would much rather my kid be too warm and snuggly than the other way.  We can work on conformity (stay in line and hands to yourself) later...she's got, oh, a good 90 years left for that business.  I'm gonna just let her hug the crap out of anything while she is still young and unaffected by this sometimes cold and corporate (ick) society in which we live.

While I don't enjoy the laundry duties that come with it, I adore the fact that she has to have (on average) 6 costume changes a day.  She often comes downstairs in a nightgown that is different from the one she had on when we tucked her in.  From that, she gets into play clothes, then a costume, a nightgown again, then play clothes, a completely different costume, and back to a nightgown.

Millie will only wear dresses (give or take a leotard), and has been this way for at least 6 months.  At times, this drove me straight to Mi Cocina for a margarita, especially when all of the dresses at all of the stores (SERIOUSLY....ALL of them) were beyond hideous, but now I have relaxed and think it's cute.  (And thank God Target got their crap together and made some cuter dresses.)

Not sure if it is because of my career, but Mills talks about "her wedding" daily.  Each time it is a different groom.  Mostly Jack, but sometimes it's Law or Finley or Baby Will or some kid in her class named Jace.  She wants the wedding to be at our house, and I suppose in lieu of cocktail hour, she wants there to be, get this, "gym time".  Everyone has to bring play clothes and jump around and do their tricks and turns, and THEN they can eat and dance.

She's still never had a real haircut.  She loves broccoli.  She's way into typing and writing and any sort of arts and crafts. She still adores Taylor Swift and Johnny Cash and Vampire Weekend and surprises me with the occasional interest in stuff like Sufjan Stevens and Flo Rida.  She hates wearing socks and despises coats of any kind and likes sushi and loves it when I call her "Peach" (as I have since she was a baby) and can't contain herself when I ask her to help me with my makeup. She also thinks that soy sauce comes from pandas and that you just "squeeze and pull, squeeze and pull" and that's how we get it.  For that reason alone, I could love her for the rest of my life.  I always will.  She is my inspiration, and I can't wait to show this to her when she is 13 and tells me I am the mother from hell.  I absolutely am so blessed to be a mom.