You’re three now my love, and even though you think you are quite grown up, you are still very small. I love the way you twirl around the house in your mix-matched clothes, and the way you make up silly little songs that never rhyme and rarely make much sense. You are an intriguing mix of sweet femininity and fiery determination. You are loud and you like to boss everyone around. You wear your sparkly shoes when you play in the dirt. You are my favorite little girl.
You wore you church shoes. You said (and I quote), “I love my church shoes, they are so clicky.” And I smiled because I remembered a time in my life when having “clicky shoes” made me impossibly happy
After all the presents were opened and you donned your new princess finery, the grownups were sitting around enjoying coffee and chatting. Your brothers were busy playing with your new pink cash register. We were all so busy we didn’t notice that the birthday girl was nowhere about, until Grandma W. noticed what was going on in the kitchen~
There you were, all dressed up, helping yourself to the last of the birthday cake.
The next morning your daddy took you to get breakfast, just you two. You had the strawberry waffles. The strawberries and whipped cream were devored, but the waffle sat untouched despite your daddy’s best coaxing.
There is not a day that goes by that I don’t thank God for sending you to us. There was a time in my life when a house full of rowdy boys was all I wanted. Then you showed up… my beautiful, funny, messy, rowdy little girl!
Love you, Mamma