The Magic Number

Cinderella before her ball.

And we would be seriously remiss if we did not mention that someone had a birthday this week. Someone turned THREE in this house. This fact? Blows my mother-scratchin' MIND.

It was a whirlwind week, filled with cleaning and cleaning and baking and cooking and cleaning and other sorts of prep (for two sets of houseguests and 3 guestdogs and a brunch party for 20) including talking up the party for Little A. (she was iffy on it until we got the balloons); by the time the party came around I was almost too tired to enjoy it.

Almost. But I would have had to be the stupidest, most oblivious mama in the world if I didn't catch some of the THRILL my first daughter had with every guest that walked through the door. All her favorite people in the world (well, minus a couple of too-far-away types), all in one spot, to celebrate! It was JUMPING UP AND DOWN TIME!!!

Milestone: first manicure

She showed everyone her fancy painted fingernails from our girly-date at the salon the day before (pink and sparkly blue, of course). She shared her toys with her cousins and her best friend/brother from another mother. She showed off the chickens and her little sister and my god SHE IS THREE IT IS BLOWING MY MIND.

This year has been been a lot: a new sister, a favorite teacher suddenly fired from her daycare, potty training, etc. etc. And this kid has handled it amazingly well. She got out of diapers just in time for baby to arrive. She is the most gentle and loving big sister (though clumsy, her hugs are often more like wrestling moves). She is a patient friend to both her cousin and her best friend who sometimes get overwhelmed and don't remember how to take turns and maybe grab her toys. Of course, she has moments where the devil himself grabs her and uses his voice to shriek NO NO NOOOOO but most of the time I can honestly say: she is effing amazing.

She was still a baby last year. And sometimes she asks to sit in my lap or for a 'baby carry' or for her crib to be put back together. But make no mistake, Little A. is a kid. She can dress herself. She will order for herself at restaurants and compliment the waitress on a good meal (chicken nuggets or mac n cheese, please, for sooth, she is that kid). She makes jokes, she notices everything, she loves and hates and enjoys and despises. She is...awesome. I look at her sometimes and can hardly believe she is mine.

THREE. How can it be? Days are long, years are short, indeed.

Birfday twirl!

Con muchos besos, A