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- Ansel Adams

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"You don't take a photograph, you make it. "
- Ansel Adams

May 25, 2016

She’s Three.

 

Yesterday, my first born turned three. She’s three. I remember when my friends had a three year old while we were still just barely married. I was thinking that their child is a kid now…not a toddler…not a baby, but a kid. Now I’m the mom of a three year old. This is the year that we can do preschool, the year that potty training is completely done, the year that she learns to do things that big kids can do. Where did my baby go? Somedays I quietly mourn the ending of her babyhood, but then I get excited over the beginning of her childhood and the many adventure she has in store.

How did three years come up so quickly? Why do those days feel SO long, but when you come to the end another year, you are left wondering what happened. With each year she gets older, I’m realizing that though it’s her birthday, it’s actually a day of celebration for me too. While she celebrates and eats cake and opens presents, I quietly and inwardly celebrate and remember her birth. I remember the moment it all began when my eyes shot open one morning after I had realized that the pain I was having was not, in fact, gas. My contractions had started. So that’s what they feel like! Ouch! I remember the going back and forth from the hospital because I had NOT YET dilated AT. ALL. I remember screaming into my pillow because of the all the pain. I remember taking a bath to help ease some of it. I remember….sleeping….maybe? I remember finally getting checked into the hospital and staying there all the while still screaming as Brian puts his hand over my mouth to quiet me (something he has never and will never do again). (Also, for the record, he tried to quiet me because I was laboring with every other woman in the room and he didn’t want me to disturb them). I remember the drug they gave me and the dots on the curtain that I thought were moving, but it was just my drugs helping me out. 🙂 I remember taking a bath in the hospital. I remember the sleep I got every 5 minutes in between contractions. I remember me BEGGING for that drug that knocked me out again…literally, I had to BEG for it. Ha! I remember being told when I was at a 6 and immediately asking for an epidural. I remember the sweet relief of the epidural and finally being able to relax and let my body do what it needed to do. I remember the pop of my water breaking and then not a minute later my mom walking into the room. (she had flown from the US that day.) I remember sleeping while my mom petted my hair. I remember the shakes and the anticipation of pushing while Friends was playing on our laptop in the background for distraction. I remember pushing, push, push….she’s out! And then I remember waiting for what seemed like 20 minutes to hear her cry. In reality, it was only seconds. And then we met. She only cried for a little bit. I cried for a lot. And then after that it was all done. I was not pregnant any more. She was in my arms. We were done. We can rest now.

Now she’s three. She talks non-stop. She sings about everything she is doing. (This is a new thing as of late) She was singing about us getting batteries at the store. She was singing about a cake. She was singing about Brian wiping her. She just sings. I love it and I hope that will never stop. 🙂 She’s loves her brother and wants to make him laugh and be happy. She is friendly and is learning to share and play with others. She is curious and cautious and brave. She giggles all the time. Her sweetness settles my frustration. Her silliness gives me joy. I love that she reads her books to the glow of the fading, evening light after we’ve put her to bed. I love that she calls me mommy, and I laugh when she calls me Jenny (seriously, she calls me Jenny, sometimes). I love that she calls Thunder, Bumber. I love that you can’t tell if she’s talking about her thumb or her bum because those words sounds the same when she says them. I love how she always ask to wear a pretty skirt or dress every morning.

My sweet, sweet girl. You have made our lives so much richer. All the diamonds in the world couldn’t compare the richness you have brought to our lives. You are as refreshing as a cool breeze after a warm rain. We love you and can’t wait to see how God will change you to be more like Him. Keep being you…

but also, just slow down.

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