3rd Anniversary of a Royal Birth

In the previous post, On This Day an Angel Was Born..., I referred to the letter I wrote to my little angel for her third birthday. The letter is below...

Dear Daughter,

This past year has been filled with so much change. There has also been quite a bit of change from one day to the next my sweet little 3 year old.

You and the potty have become best friends as you've conquered the throne. Occasionally, when you go into the bathroom to handle your business, you climb onto the porcelain throne, and point to the threshold of the bathroom as you say "Go, mommy. Go." This most often occurs when the business that needs handling is solid rather than liquid. Regardless, apparently, even a 3 year old needs her bathroom privacy.

You can now count to fifteen and you are able to name all the letters of the alphabet upon sight. Your counting is adorable because fourteen comes after thirteen and before thirteen, and sometimes fifteen never comes at all. With the letter recognition, you confuse N and M, which is completely understandable, but you still do a very good job.

Now, on to your more interesting traits...

Rather than plain old wrestling, you and I alternate "biting" each other. "Biting" is in quotes, because I nibble on you playfully with my lips covering my teeth, so that my teeth don't come in contact with you at all. I also merely put your tiny arm or leg in my mouth. I don't actually apply force. When I do it, you laugh whole-heartedly, and it's sooooo awesome. It's like I'm tickling you! You, on the other hand, haven't caught on to the fact that I'm covering my teeth with my lips, and you literally bite me, then laugh. You don't do it with any force, so it's still very funny.

You've finally began to understand that tooting (as in flatulence) makes a pretty funny sound when it comes out, and it smells pretty darn terrible 90% of the time. These days, you giggle when you toot, and sometimes follow that initial toot up with several more, each accompanied by adorable little giggles. Once the fragrance of all that hits your nose, you say "That doesn't smell nice, mommy." To which I'd love to say "No shit, Sherlock" as a joke, lol, but I can't use that type of language with my princess.

Sweetheart, we share so many special moments. One example occurred a few nights ago. I was sitting on the floor gathering books for a bedtime story, and you walked over, placed your arm around my neck like we were old buddies, and said "Mommy, you're my best friend." I wanted to cry, because I felt so special in that moment.

You're a very sweet, kind, and compassionate toddler, and the empathy in which you operate astounds me at times. If you see me yawn or lying down, you ask me if I'm tired. If you see me laugh, you ask me what's "laughing" instead of what's "funny". You're always concerned with what I'm doing and how I'm feeling, and I love it.

This past year, I've gotten to see you really develop a personality that's full of love and kindness, but refuses to be a push-over. Even though you're a petite toddler, your attitude doesn't reflect it. You walk and talk like you're 6 feet tall, and it's adorable.

I appreciate your capacity to demand what you want, although we're still working on you understanding that you can't always have things your way.

I love you dearly, and look forward to you continuing to develop emotionally, socially, academically, and behaviorally. Being your mother has been a richly rewarding experience thus far, and I look forward to continuing to cultivate and guide you to becoming the woman you're intended to become.

Love Always,
Mom