On the day she turns three

Dear Pookie,

The first time you sat without being propped up, I cried.  I bawled my eyes out and wailed to your father about how prom and graduation were just around the corner.  Maybe it was a little of the hormones still talking, but now that you're three?  And I realize I'll only have five more "threes" (which fly by like nothing) and you really will be graduating and flying the coop and taking on the world?

Carrot cake with frosting and Bambi and candles (and a fork)--just as requested

I'm a puddle all over again.

We're in a tough spot these days, obedience-wise.  You so desperately want independence, so there's a lot of boundary pushing.  Then again, when you first learned to walk, I'd take you to the mall and let you roam the halls, walking just behind you, letting you explore whatever your heart fancied.

I  pushed you toward independence in exploration, and I pushed you toward potty training, feeding yourself, controlling yourself during church.  There were times I know I pushed a little harder than I should have, but all in all, I still love just watching you explore.

You are my nature girl.  Rocks, sticks, anything you can get your hands on.  I let you "trespass" on what you call a "forest" up the road (only on weekdays when I'm sure everyone's gone for the day); you would stay there all day if I let you.  And when we visit Grandma and Grandpa's farm?  You're already clamoring to go to the barn before we hit the brakes.

What do you do while you explore the barn and all that nature?  You talk.  You sing.  You recreate the stories that fill your world--the books we read and the TV you watch, which is only two things: Doc McStuffins (the same episode every day for two weeks since that's what available on the website) and this Scripture sing-along video from the nineties that we found at the thrift store.

Every dreamer needs dress-up clothes!

You live in these stories and make them your own, narrating what happened and what's happening now.  Sometimes after I give you an instruction, you say, "Said her mother."  And after we read Paddington?  It was a week of "said Johnathan, admiringly."  You so make me laugh.

I guess that's a pretty good picture of you at three: happy, talkative, independent, nature-loving, narrative-driven, all arms and legs and lots of kisses.

I love you, Pookie; I know God has big things for you in this life, so that Jesus you're always repeating stories about?  Cling to Him, baby; He'll never leave you or let you down.

Love,
Mama