She loves Miranda Sings and attended a concert dressed as the YouTube sensation.
She'll take every opportunity to dress-up and wear makeup.
If she's tired, wherever she happens to be is a great place to lie down.
She took a trip to Chicago and has now put that city at the top of the list of places she'd like to live.
She has an alter-ego named Ethan who shows up randomly and has side-swept hair and a hat.
She loves spending time at any beach-from Northern Michigan to Florida-swimming, body surfing, rubbing sand all over her body, hanging out on boats, and playing with friends and family.
She has a pet chicken named Cecilia, after the song of the same name.
If my phone is left unattended, she scoops it up and takes amazing selfies.
She started fifth grade this year, which meant memorizing her very first locker combination.
From sledding to jumping out of barns, she's a bit a of a daredevil. (And only one of those occurrences ended in massive amounts of blood leaking from her face!)
She spends a lot of time with her BFF, Claire.
This past Valentine's Day, she received her very first gift from a boy.
She had an absolute blast at Disney World this Spring.
She has a little sister who looks up to her and learns from her every day.
She gave up her pigtails and headbands a few months ago, and has moved forward with a more grown up look.
She wants to run her own her own cupcakery, and is constantly on the lookout for the perfect location. She is afraid of knives and won't even hold one. She wants her own bedroom, but doesn't want to be alone in it. She's not a snuggler or lovey-dovey child, but she all but panics if she is apart from me for a night. She's a great big sister to Nash, and even managed to get him to take a nap today. She continues to be a great student, but I'm sure at some point she'll have to start studying for tests. She wears through triple the amount of shoes any of the boys go through, because even though she spends her time playing in the ditch and the cornfield and doing back flips in the grass, cute boots are a must, right? She spends hours recording videos of herself singing and dancing, but would be completely mortified to have to perform either of those things on a stage.
Today, Emerson is eleven. She is a fifth grader. She is learning who she is, and who she wants to be. She wears black leggings every single day, and is so picky about clothing that she rotates the same four shirts endlessly. Her favorite meals are stuffed shells and cheesy chicken and biscuits, but no peas for her, thankyouverymuch, because she'll end up spending a lot of time in the bathroom, and ain't nobody got time for that. She still loves Taylor Swift, but has broadened her horizons and knows all the words to songs I've never heard and by artists I've never heard of. She can whip up the perfect shade of lipstick to match any outfit by blending different colors of eye shadow, which she must have learned on Pinterest or YouTube, as she spends endless hours watching how-to videos. She can't go to sleep at night unless she's received exactly seven kisses from me. In fact, if I won't be home for a night, or she's staying the night at a friend's house, she never forgets to get those seven kisses from me in advance. She is teetering on the edge of her teenage years, but there are still many things she's not giving up quite yet: pajamas with feet, stuffed animals, french braids and her love of unicorns.
This year for her birthday Emerson requested a big party with all of her family and friends. She didn't really care about a birthday theme, and had no preference on what kind of food was served, but she did give me a list of about twenty different desserts she wanted to have. And her birthday gift wish list? There were only four things on it:
1. A Polaroid camera
2, Hershey bars
4. The Clapper
It's safe to say that all of Emerson's birthday desires were fulfilled this year. She's got a new camera, a belly full of chocolate, and a wallet full of money. And tonight, when she finally decides to turn off the lights and go to sleep, all I'll hear is a clap, clap.