For Heather

You turn 17 today, Heather. I can't believe it. You weren't born my sister, but you belonged to us. The first time mom saw you she cried out, "that's my baby," because you were always supposed to be ours. I loved to hold you when you were little. I used to love to take you out of Sacrament meeting when you'd cry so I could sneak some of your snacks. You didn't seem to mind, but then again you were a baby. You were such a spunky little girl, you even taught yourself how to ride your own bike. You used to come with me when I taught dance and be my "special assistant," you had so much natural rhythm. And we'd say "Liar,Liar" quotes back and forth while we'd drive home. You were always good at doing impressions, you still are.

When I got married you were just a little girl. You were mad at Craig for stealing my attention from you, but I think he grew on you. You were an aunt by the time you were 12, and you're niece and nephews love you.

You are good at everything you try. You've done dance, track, piano, tennis. And you're so natural at all of them. You're smart, and talented. But most importantly, you're loving. And now you're almost grown up. Only one more year. It's seems so short. I don't think I'm ready for you to be grown up yet. But I guess it's going to happen anyway.

You're growing into such a beautiful woman, Heather. Despite the fact that you've been raised by 5 mothers. Happy Birthday pookie bear, I love you.

If I lived in Logan I would come pick you up this afternoon and take you out for ice cream, and then we would do "Liar, Liar" impressions all the way home.