Today my daughter turned three years old. I must admit it was a little hard for me. See, Rob and I decided about a year ago that we were done having kids (for many personal reasons) and so today, as many days, I stared at my "baby" and noticed all the ways that she is no longer a baby. I even came up behind her, hugged her and said "Oh, I can't believe my baby is 3 years old!" to which she slowly turned her head toward me, rolled her eyes, and said "Mom, what are you doing dare (there)?" clearly annoyed by her dear old Mom.
It hits me even harder this birthday because we are moving in one week and when we moved down here she was 4 weeks old. I remember thinking to myself about how she'd be 3 when we moved back and I remember imagining what she'd be like and look like... and now it's upon me. She's 3. Just like that.
But anyway, she had a great day - except when one of the church congregations sang happy birthday to her and she cried - she hates a fuss on her birthday. She didn't want a party, she didn't want a lot of attention and the food she asked for as her special meal was (and I quote) "Pasta with salt. No budda (butter)." So that's what I made for dinner and she LOVED it even turning to me once and making the M-M-good sound.
Instead of a cake she wanted chocolate pie and mickey mouse plates.
Rob's Mom and step sister got her a bunch of new clothes so she put on a new "alphabet", as she says, every hour or so. She played in her room with her new pink bunny from my parents - pretending it was her baby. And at the end of the day we read some new books she had received.
She thanked Rob and I for her birthday, like, 6 times through out the day. She just so sweet and wants her birthday celebrated simply. She's growing up so fast. So fast.
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