And then she turned 3 (a few weeks ago)

My Sweet Girl,

How three years have already passed is beyond my comprehension. I’m starting to think parenthood must have a dog years equivalent – that, while 3 years have passed in “real” time, it’s only been a year in parent time.

First Birthday

Second Birthday

Third Birthday

This last year was clearly marked by you becoming your own person, one with a definite personality (that roars as often as it whispers) and distinct opinions, many of which are best defined as the opposite of whatever Mommy says.

Age two was as magical as it was challenging. We watched you learn to ride your first bike (a trike) and fully grasp language, allowing us to have awesome and often hilarious chats with you. You gracefully took on the role of big sister and now grapple with sharing attention and toys and the yin and yang of loving your brother but also wanting to hit him when he takes your toys. Your early preschool program was a test of your bravery and ability to feel comfortable in new environments (something I still struggle with). You had your first trip to the emergency room. We all agree it’s a place we never want to visit again.  You’ve taken many, many opportunities to test the boundaries your dad and I have set for you. The tantrums that blew our minds 12 months ago are morphing into arguments as you can now put words to your feelings of anger and frustration. And while you are a good kid, and like being a good kid, you also think it’s absolutely hilarious and empowering to be naughty and at times ignore everything we say to you.

You are a passionate girl, meaning emotions explode from you, whether they’re shrieks of joy or screams of despair. You have been this way since birth, and I often have flash backs to the first time, at 2-weeks-old, that you looked me square in the eyes and screamed in my face as I desperately tried to sooth you. It was the closest I’ve come to an infant telling me to fuck off.

Things you love: Being outside, riding your bikes, playing with friends (your bestie is Lydia from next door), reading books (you now look at the pictures and make up your own story to go with them), singing songs (you listen intently and request they be played repeatedly until you learn the words), getting dirty, swimming, picking out outfits, going fast, making people laugh (especially your little brother), watching “your shows” (Little Einsteins, Team Umizoomi, Oswald, Berenstain Bears), helping in the kitchen and being silly.

Things you hate: Limitations, going to bed, being rushed, the word “no,” and oddly, eating. Again, you’ve been this way since birth, not wanting to slow down to eat. While you once enjoyed things like quinoa, olives, roasted peppers, tomatoes and mushrooms, we are now down to about a dozen foods that you’ll allow in your mouth. We have a hard and fast rule in our house – you cannot leave the table until you try everything on your plate. I plan every. single. meal with the hopes that you will eat it or find a new food you like. The dinner table is our newest battle ground, as you refuse to try things, shove your plate across the table or repeatedly hop out of your chair. It often takes upwards of 45 minutes to finish a meal with you and typically includes a time out and ends with Daddy pretending your fork is an airplane and flying the food into your mouth. This, along with your endless energy, explains why you are still a little peanut, weighing 28 lbs and measuring 33 inches, which puts you in the 25th percentile for your age.

I have a secret to tell you. The last thing I do before going to bed is tiptoe into your room while you sleep, making sure that you’re okay and then lingering long enough to appreciate the peacefulness of you sleeping and that you exist – that you are my little girl to love. I have been doing this since the day you were born. We have both come so far since then.

I love you, love you, love you, my sweet, sweet baby girl.

Love,

Mama

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