You're Three

I cannot believe that you're three. Three. Three!

It seems like yesterday that we brought you home from the hospital and stared at you in disbelief over how tiny and delicate you were. And, by the way, it also feels like yesterday since, for some reason, I am just as tired as I was back then. Maybe it's because now I am running after you trying to get you to put on pants before running outside. Call me modest. Or it's because I am busy picking shredded cheese out of the dining room carpet because you decided to "make tacos" on your plastic stove.

Perhaps it's because I am running behind you down the sidewalk pushing you "faster! faster!" as you practice "riding" your tricycle. It could be because I'm figuring out the best way to remove the lotion that you've smeared all over your room.

Or maybe it's because I'm out of breath from answering your thousand questions during each and every car ride. It could be because I'm making up a song to the tune of Dora's "We Did It!" each time you finish something that you've been working hard at. It might be because I'm chasing you down so that I can save the poor soul whose ear you're talking off on the phone. Or maybe it's because I'm trying to prevent you from completely submerging yourself in fingerpaint during our craft time.

Or because I'm diving in between you and your little sister to stop you from brushing the heck out of her hair. It also could be because I'm reading "Does a Kangaroo Have a Mother Too?" eleven times before bed.

It may even be because I'm doing a cheerleading jump each time you take a bite of anything that isn't plain white rice. Or it could be because I'm dancing in a conga line with you singing "It's time to Sprout it up! Sprout it up! Before we go to bed, let's Sprout it up!"

It quite possibly is because I stayed up way past my bedtime last night assembling your play kitchen so that I could surprise you this morning. Or maybe it's because I'm so busy thinking about how grateful I am that you're such a happy, healthy and spunky little girl.

Whatever the reason, I'm tired. And I can't imagine being any happier.

Happy 3rd Birthday Kiddo! You light up my life.

And I'm working on that Barney cake. Popsicle swear.