One of the many things I've loved about you this past year is how you've really begun finding your own interests. Some of them are still our interests--you have your favorite Lucius song, for example--but some of them are really, really not.
Like, say, the ponies.
Although actually, as I'm writing this, I'm realizing it's all pretty much untrue. You've always found your own interests. We certainly didn't introduce you to owls, for example, since I was emphatically anti-owl (nothing personal, just market saturation). You've always known what you liked, and you've always imbued your interests enough magic to make me care about them too. I love owls now. And I even kinda like the ponies. It's craziness.
There is nothing that brings me more joy than seeing you happy--which works out really well, since you're a pretty happy kid. And while you've struggled a bit with school and friends and other big, scary changes, it's clear that you are and always will be secure in who you are (whatever your name might be at the moment). This has been a year of enormous leaps forward, and your dad and I spend most of our time sitting back and marveling at how wonderful you are. We are so proud of you and can't wait to see what four will be like.
P.S. If you could start sleeping past 4:00 in the morning this year, that'd be swell. Thanks, love.