How my daughter is turning three tomorrow, I have no idea. It seems like just yesterday she was a newborn. In this short period of time, she’s blossomed into a very sweet, sassy, smart, funny, stubborn, silly little girl. She holds her own with her big brother and surprises me every day with something new she’s learned, be it a song, a ballerina dance she’s made up or counting higher than the day before. She “reads” her brother books, feeds the dog water from a spoon and tells me she loves me often, and says thank you when I tell her I love her. She’s my little shadow, wanting to be around only me if I’m in the vicinity and loves to hold my hand “because it fits”, even in the house.
When Fussypants was turning three, I was pregnant with Little Miss and I was so ready for him to be self-sufficient. I didn’t miss him needing me to help him go potty, get a snack or put on his shoes. I was on bed rest, but still working, I was ill and exhausted and ready for him to grow up. But knowing that she’s my last baby, makes having her grow up more difficult. I guess I have a bit of the baby blues. I look at my son, about to graduate Kindergarten and my daughter, about to turn 3 and I can’t help but think of them as babies and wonder where the time went. But we are done, our family is what it is, so don’t get any ideas.
But back to my baby girl turning three. I know that if she had been a boy, I would have been happy and our family would have been perfect but I’m not going to lie. I love having a daughter. Every woman should have one, it’s such a humbling experience. She can bring me to my knees in a way Fussypants just doesn’t. But he can make me laugh (especially if I am angry) in a way she never has. He is so easy-peasy compared to her. Maybe it’s his personality or maybe with boys what you see is what you get, but we’ve never argued over what underwear he’s wearing that day and Little Miss and I have had daily meltdown spats over the choice of Disney character on her chonies and she’s not yet three. And don’t get me started about trying to brush her hair. We never had terrible twos with him, but the terrible twos started with her when she was 1.5. 90% of the time, she’s sweet and funny but when that 10% hits…watch out. My mom calls it “going dark”. Her whole face changes, clouding over and she stops talking. She’ll screech like a baby pterodactyl, which is unpleasant, and where we could easily use the redirection method with her brother, she’s focused on whatever it is she isn’t getting and pouts. I’m really hoping that she’s outgrown it and that we won’t have a year of the terrible threes.
For her birthday, she wanted a bounce house and Cinderella. So we accommodated. A friend of mine from college warned not to peak on the parties at such a young age, but having Cinderella come to the house was amazing. Little Miss was so excited, it was just the most heart-warming thing to watch. She is still talking about her visit, days later. She actually slept in her Princess dress the night of her party. My hunky fireman husband, who had worked three in a row and was exhausted, even stopped at the Disney store on his way home to buy her a Cinderella crown (so swoon-worthy, he’s such a good daddy) and she wore it all day long.
On her actual birthday, my mom and I are taking her to Disneyland and she has an appointment at the Bibbiddy Bobbiddy Boutique to get a Cinderella up do by a Godmother-in-training. Over the top? Maybe. But I have a daughter and can do girlie things like that if I want to.
So happy 3rd birthday to my baby big girl. I love you so much, you and your brother fill my heart with sunshine, and I hope you have a wonderful day.