Dear Little Miss
Last night when you went to bed you were 2 years old. The magic happened and when you woke up this morning, you were 3 years old. You know it’s your birthday and you know it means cupcakes and presents. You also know being 3 is being a big girl, which you so want to be. For your birthday you’ve asked us for things not typically girl, which I’m secretly pleased about. Dolls and pink ponies aren’t on your list, you asked for cars and a binoculars. Don’t worry, you’ll be getting both some Matchbox cars and your binoculars.
You are a super sweet and caring person. I’m proud of you beyond imagine. You know how to spell your name, along with a few other words like Mama and Papa. When you see something with three, you always say, “that one is you, that is Papa and this one is me.” You get the concept of a family of three and that is what are. And remember, you are what makes us a family.
You think you can skip, but really you are just sliding your feet along. You like to dance and want to be a “real ballerina.” You love to climb the wall at the park but are afraid of falling through the cracks once you get to the top where the slides are. I try and tell you that you are safe up there, but are still cautious and don’t believe me yet. I have confidence you will believe me, one day.
Much to your father’s disbelief, you don’t like meat or hamburgers. You like hummus, tofu and cheese, especially, “the creamy one.” At least half your meals each week involve a pasta product, especially Mac and Cheese. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s the truth. You are reluctant to try new foods, but I keep putting them on your plate, hoping something might stick. So far this week, you tried green beans again and this time, you went for it. You love sweets and we can pretty much get you to do anything by bribing you with a gummy worm or a small piece of chocolate. I know it’s not the best way to parent, but in our reality that’s how it works.
You have grown out of Dora and are now obsessed with Yo Gabba Gabba. I’m a little afraid of that guy in the orange jumpsuit and furry hat, but you seem fine with him. You also love Tinkerbell and in your world of made up games we play Tink almost every day. Why do you always get to be her and I’m just the water fairy? I guess I shouldn’t complain, you could make me be Vidia, the mean one. You have a wild imagination, you constantly make up games,l new rules to those games and make up imaginary friends who join us on all of our adventures.
I miss you when I’m not around you. Dropping you off at school is hard for me but each day we have our routine of the 3 things we get. First is a hug, then a kiss and lastly, an “I love you.” That keeps me satisfied until I pick you up. Some days I pick you up after lunch, but lately, you’ve been wanted to stay and nap with your friends at school. Knowing you like to be there confirms to both your Papa and me that we made the right choice of schools for you. You have learned so much since there. You talk non-stop, you know your letters, numbers you get to experience yoga, dance, music and Qi Gong at school. You are sounding out words and everyone believes you will be an early reader, something you keep telling me you want to do.
Having you in my life is amazing. You make me want to be a better person and make this world a better place to live. I love you beyond anything that this world can know. I never imagined loving a person the way I love you and I know that sounds so cliché, but it’s true. Sometimes, I think my heart aches because it can’t hold any more love for you than it does. It’s a feeling deep in my soul and innate to my being.
I know you love me too because when I kiss you, I’ve caught you wiping my kisses away. I ask you what you are doing that for and your response is, “Mama, I’m not wiping them off, I’m just getting your kiss so I can keep it in my heart.” Little Miss, may your heart always be full with my kisses and love for you.
Happy 3rd birthday.
I love you,
And yes, those are the ladybug cupcakes I made yesterday for The Little Miss' school party.