Somehow, it has happened. My daughter has turned 3.
Three years ago I birthed her into the world after a few short hours of labor and 24 minutes in the hospital. The power and love and awe I felt on that day has only continued to grow as I've nursed this child and loved her and watched her reveal herself to us.
She is so, so funny. The other night we were lying in bed together trying to fall asleep. We had our backs to each other, but were sharing a pillow. She scootched over closer to me and said, "Butt to butt!"
When she asks me for something and she thinks I might say no, she scrunches up her face until her eyes are slivers and dances her pointer finger like an inch worm on a spring.
She loves yellow, strawberries, Boo and Baa books, sliding, Peep and the Big Wide World, snuggling, playing catch, and as ever, babies.
I think she might be giving up her nap. She naps maybe twice a week, but we still try every day. We lie there until she says, "I think I actually don't want to nap."
When people ask her what she wants for her birthday, she says, "A rainbow cake." She will have one tomorrow, at her party.
I can't believe she's 3. I can't believe she's mine.
I am so lucky, so blessed, so happy to be her mama.