Dear Meg-a-loo,
Today you are three amazing years old. Three years ago tonight, your dad and I were probably just sitting in the hospital room staring at you, so amazed at the gift God had given to us. Three years later, we tucked you in to bed on your birthday, dancing in and out of your doorway while saying our good nights with you giggling at our silliness. We can't believe how fast these three years have gone by.
In this third year of your life, you went from a little babbling toddler to a darling and talkative little girl. You were potty trained . . . and in one short year can now go to the bathroom all on your own. You can help me with things around the house, you can put on your own clothes, and you can get yourself out of the car without assistance. You go to preschool and dance class and leave me in the dust . . . never worring about Mom or even glacing to see if I'm still there. You are a very independent little girl . . . if I were to list all the things you do without me, it would probably bring tears to my eyes. You are growing so fast.
I think that your language explosion this year has been your biggest achievement. When Kate was born at your second birthday, you could barely say "Kate" or "Baby" or even "Mommy." I remember how little you could say and how I could not wait for you to become a chatterbox. It happened in just 12 months time. Now you say things like, "Kate won't cooperate with me!" and "Mommy, I wuv you so much." You and I have fantastic chats . . . my favorites usually taking place either in the car or in your bed at bedtime. You tell me how you feel about things, what you think, what you like and don't like. It is simply wonderful. And your memory never, ever ceases to amaze me (or anyone who knows you). You make connections between things that are happening now to something you've experienced in the past; you connect stories and books to real life occurrances. We don't dare mention something that we might not want you to think of later . . . you will always remember what we say. Your intellect is growing by leaps and bounds each and every day. I couldn't tell you how many times your dad and I have raised our eyebrows at each other in awe of something you knew, something you said.
You are so sweet and kind to that sister of yours . . . most of the time. I know you love Kate with every ounce of your body, though at times your might express it in some non-traditional ways. Your love for her is so natural and so true that even when you might find yourself jealous or unhappy with her, you can still turn around and give her a hug or a genuine "Sorry, Kate." You two adore each other. I'm one lucky mom to be able to watch your love grow.
Your third birthday was quite 'purple' -- you had purple pancakes for breakfast (at your request, of course) and wanted to wear your purple Tinkerbell dress with purple hairclips and purple flip flops. We had a bbq at Aunt Julies and then came home to snuggle up with popcorn and a movie in the basement. You went to bed dreaming of your big third birthday party which will take place at our neighborhood pool tomorrow. It was a good day -- you said so yourself.
Happy Birthday to my big girl. Meg-a-loo. My monkey. Meg-delicious. Your daddy and I love you very much, and we can't wait to see you hold those "4" fingers up this time next year. (Well, maybe we can wait a little -- like I said, you are growing up so fast!)
With love --
Mommy
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