The three-ness of it all

Josie May - you turned 3 on Saturday.

At certain points during the day, we'd stop and remember what we were doing at that time on the day you were born - while there were still only two of us and we were so scared and so excited and so... naive about what our lives were going to be like with a baby. At a little after noon, we recalled how I was eating a lite lunch, then watching "Days" while trying to relax on the birthing ball. (For months after you were born, you'd perk up at the sound of the "Days of Our Lives" theme song.) At a little after 6:00, how we were push, push, pushing, hoping to meet you sooner rather than later. And at 6:29 p.m., how our lives changed forever and our hearts were no longer our own as the doctor told us we had our very own pink, squirmy baby girl. And now, three years later, you are Josie. An independent, stubborn, thoughtful, careful, funny, insightful and so, so caring little girl. You may not talk to people right away and shy away from attention until you feel comfortable, but everyone is sure to get a "hug unna tiss" before they leave. Your thank-yous may be be too quiet for anyone to hear, but at least you say them. I'm afraid the close proximity of the hoopla surrounding Christmas and the hoopla surrounding your birthday may leave the rest of the year seeming very barren - but someday you'll realize that having your birthday so close after the holidays is especially advantageous due to two special, magical words - clearance sales.

I love birthdays, and always want to make your birthday something special. You may not remember this one - but it was quite a weekend. I think you realized that something really was up when you woke up from your nap on Friday, came out of your room to steal some precious snuggle-time on the couch with me while your sister was still sleeping and saw the giant bouquet of balloons I had almost given myself a heart attack to blow up and hang in the kitchen. Your eyes got big and you said in an awed tone, "I was not having balloons before, Mommy." We had a little shindig for you on Saturday at one of your favorite places, the indoor playground. And if I never smell another hot dog again, it will be fine by me. (One of the traits you're sure to inherit from me, just as I did from your Gramma Sue, is the fear of not having enough food. So we now have enough leftover hot dogs in our fridge to feed a small army.) And of course, because you are who you are, you really started to party it up at about 7:59 p.m., and the place closes at 8:00 p.m. So it was a battle to get you convinced that you couldn't stay there by yourself and sleep in the ball pit and had to endure the agony of putting on your coat and coming home with your family, instead. I hope that we are able to instill in you the gratitude and ability to realize how lucky you are to be surrounded with people who love you, especially those who braved freezing their nose hairs off to come out in subzero weather and celebrate you and your day. It definitely was a "primpess" birthday this year, which suited you just fine. You have enough Barbie, princess and fairy gear to last you, well, probably until next year.

And the cherry on the sundae... your very first Sesame Street Live show last night. To be in the same building with Elmo, and Oscar, and Bert and Ernie- was almost too much. Although I'm not sure who enjoyed the show more, you or your sister. I have to admit that I didn't see much of the beginning as I was enjoying watching the expressions on your faces as you realized that Elmo was right there in front of you. Although you would have been perfectly happy with half an Elmo show as you asked me at intermission if we could go home now. And because anatomy is still such an important topic in your life right now, you told me as we were getting ready to leave for the show that "I think Oscar is having boy parts." If he'd ever get out of that damn can, we could be sure.

Josie, you are the best birthday gift I've ever received. Happy Birthday. Daddy and I love you more than you can ever imagine.