Over the past month when people have asked me how old you are I’ve told them two. Not two and 10 months, not almost 3 but two. I’ve been hanging on to you being a baby for as long as I possibly can.
Three? Can you really be three? Wasn’t it just last week that you were a teeny, tiny newborn? Wasn’t it just yesterday that you took your wobbly first steps? Wasn’t it just last night that you were throwing your very first terrible two type tantrum?
I’m not going to lie, you’re sweet but you’re also hard work. You’re high maintenance. You like to test us, as I guess any two year old does. You’re also seemingly allergic to sleep, waking a few times a night, every night. I wonder if that means you’ll be the perfect teen. They say it works like that.
You’re my little shadow, my heart races when I can’t see you, but you’re usually just hiding behind my dress. You’re never far from me. You’re always near.
Three years I gave birth to you, and you made me a Mama. Forever changed. To have my heart walk outside my body, is to have you in my life. Forever richer. Bigger smiles, bigger tears.
You are my first thought in the morning, and my last at night. You are the light in my life.
Happy Birthday baby girl. I can’t believe that you’re three. Today you’ll blow three candles on your cake, and it will be so. I’ll be a Mama of a three year old. xx