Dearest Sammie Joy,

You are, without a doubt, MY daughter: a drama queen with a penchant for demanding the attention of the audience, no matter where you are.

Last Sunday, your stage of choice was the living room at Nonni and Poppa’s house. It was Mother’s Day (my very first one, thank you very much—more on that to come later), and the whole Willis side of the family was there to celebrate. We’d already had our fill of corn burritos, and we were sitting in the living room chatting it up while you played with your toys on the floor.

Suddenly, you looked at me with an anxious look on your face and started “talking” to me. Loudly. I mean, you could give my drama students a lesson or two on how to project your voice. All eyes turned on us as we had this conversation:

You: Yeah!
Mommy: Yeah?
You: Yeah, YEAH!
Mommy: Yeah? Yeah?
You: Yeah, blah blah YEAH!!!

Then, without warning, you stopped yelling and graduated from creeping to crawling as you crawled to me from across the room. Perfectly. On your first time. Your stomach never touched the floor. With an audience.

I can’t imagine a more perfect Mother’s Day present.

The two of us just after our Mother's Day brunch with the Vogt side. My shirt says "Sammie's Mom:"

...and again at Nonni & Poppa's backyard for Mother's Day with the Pullen side:

Love you, daughter!

your mommy

PS. As you might have guessed from the above conversation, your favorite word is “yeah.” You use it a lot. You use it if we leave the room. You use it to talk to us. You use it to express your joy over whatever toy you’re playing with. You use it to interrupt our phone conversations. Yeah.

PPS. Your dad and I enjoyed a rare date night last Saturday when we chaperoned Central's prom. You didn't go (you had a date with Auntie Beth instead), but we did snag a prom picture first: