Liv brings enthusiasm, or a party if you will, to pretty much everything she does. She lives with gusto and uses her arms to express her joy and excitement—and if there’s a glass of milk nearby, you can plan on cleaning it up off the floor. Those expressive arms are not only good for punctuating thoughts, they’re also remarkably good at spilling drinks.

Living with my six-year-old makes my life so much more interesting. I came home from running errands this morning to discover a toothbrush suction-cupped to the dining room wall. It *almost* made it back into the bathroom, but not quite. And I’m still laughing about her song of choice while she was getting ready for school: Iron Man. As in, the song by Black Sabbath. Granted, the only words she knew where “iron man,” but still, hilarious.

Last night while I was giving most of my attention to the red carpet at the Oscars, Liv entertained herself making movies on my computer. I kept thinking she was talking to me, but as it turned out, she was talking to Lewis. Lewis was the one foot tall servant whose chief task, as I understood it, was to push Livia around in her wheelchair (aka my desk chair). Oh, and her name was no longer Livia: it was Cupcake and she was royalty. So I made Cupcake a grilled cheese and carrots with dip, and Lewis obligingly pushed her to a location where she could eat. That Lewis, such a kind soul. What would I do without his help for my poor broken-legged Cupcake?

This is my world. I am richly blessed.