Three years ago I met you.
You, my medical miracle, my daughter, my last child. You completed our family. I am unsure what my life would be without you in it, but I know it would be diminished.
I am proud of you in so many ways. I am proud of the journey that we took to conceive you. I am proud of how you sing songs to stuffed elephants.
You have grown so much, my little pumpkin. Your vocabulary is ever expanding, you are holding conversations with those around you, often making sure your opinion is heard above all others. You have a crush on the boy next door. You love and admire your big brother. Your expressive face gives me a peek into your thoughts--but just as I think I understand you, I find myself at the other end of a melt down.
You exhaust me, frustrate me, compel me to be better. You run and jump and sing and have long conversations with toys in the bathtub. Your imagination is blossoming as you are taking in all around you. You like dolls and babies, but have expanded your horizons to dinosaurs, animals big and small and Star Wars. Your juice box obsession (little do you know it is flavored water) is only matched by your sweet tooth. You hate most vegetables, but will grudgingly eat them for a Popsicle.
From the time you get up in the morning until you struggle to keep awake at night, you are a flurry of activity and curiosity.
I look forward with some trepidation on year three, but I know that while I may complain about your "three-ness", I am enjoying getting to know you and cannot wait to see where the world will take you.
I love you with all my heart.
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