Fair warning, up front. Grab your tissues. I couldn't even think about writing this post without tearing up myself.
My baby turns three tomorrow. THREE! I don't know how it is possible. I don't want it to be true. My baby, my last baby, our youngest, who tells us she is tiny, and she can't do it, and gives me kisses all over my face, is turning into something bigger, and older and sassier and I just don't want it to happen.
It is true, when they talk about things being different with your youngest. We will never get another chance to have a two year old in this house. We will never have another chance to do things differently with the next baby. She is it. She is the culmination of my knowledge gained from the first two, the good and the bad, and the result of a mommy who was home with her almost her whole life. She is my shadow, she is MY baby girl, and she is surely, the best surprise I have ever had.
So what do we do different? We let her stay up sometimes past bedtime, just to snuggle in the middle of our bed. She is still using sippy cups (I do blame the milk/formula solution for that), and she gets rocked to sleep - frequently now with "bideos" we watch on the phone on YouTube. We let her get away with "I can't do it" and help her with it because, well, she's the baby. The tantrums are kind of funny. The sassiness of my little Sassy Pants is cute. I remember beating my head in frustration with those older two while with her, it's just kind of funny.
She is hilarious. Like, not even just kind of funny to us, but people we just meet comment on her big old personality. She is charming, and silly, and makes everyone smile. She will talk your ear off about the silliest things, has something to say about everything, snuggles fiercely, and randomly smooches me and tells me she loves me twenty seven times a day.
Her happy place is right in between Mommy and Daddy, she loves to be smushed between us and will just smile and put her head back and forth between us. Surely this girl was destined to be our youngest child, or possibly someone's only.
She is my girl. She loves both of us, she loves her family, but without a doubt, of all of my children, this one is mine. Blame the fact that she has allergies that make me a bit more protective of her, or that she is the baby, or that she nursed for 20 months and still gets rocked to sleep, but that kid is just mine. I couldn't be more proud of that fact, or proud of her. I love that she is mine. I love that there are people in my life who would take her in a heartbeat, and that she is multiple people's favorite toddler.
I want to bottle up two and keep her like this forever. Her little squeaky voice, her slightly Boston accent, the smoochy lips, the way her head fits against my shoulder when she is tired. We rock, and every night it seems she is just a little bit bigger, and longer, and it is getting a little harder to fit. But she insists, and we both love to snuggle her, so rock we do, and we sing, or we watch the bideos, and let her drink her milk, and tell us not yet, and I don't see that changing anytime soon.
Miss Mia,
My baby, my girl. You love with every fiber of your being and hug with your whole body. You love Mommy, Daddy, Maggie, Ben and the rest of your family, and you are obsessed with babies. Just today in the park you befriended one, introduced yourself "Hi, I'm Mia" and made yourself at home with her. Random babies are cool, and you are crazy about your baby cousin Catie.
You are my sunshine. You truly make me smile more than anything else, and you are sweet, and kind and loving. You have a big belly laugh, and a smile that melts hearts, and just enough hair to now cover your head at least. You amaze me all the time with what you know. What you lack in preschool skills you make up for with people skills. Everyone loves you. Friends of your siblings, girls at the dance school, you are everyone's perfect baby sister. I am amazed at how older kids flock to you, carry you around, love on you, and how you just adapt to be their friend immediately. It's a beautiful skill. I overheard Maggie today yelling to her cousins below, "Hey, the Queen wants you up here!" and while that was effective, I see you doing the same thing without saying a word. It's going to make you a leader someday, hopefully using that power of persuasion for good instead of evil.
You are bold and brave and certainly don't realize you are little, until you want to be little and not bold and brave. You can put on your shoes (but would prefer if someone else does), go to the potty all by yourself (unless you are yelling for Mommy and she doesn't come, so you poop on the floor), and can follow any conversation even when we don't know you are listening.
You can count to 12, and kinda say your ABC's. You know most of your colors, you know that yellow is your favorite, and that is always the same. You sing, and dance, and love to tell stories. You are bright, and funny, and will certainly be a handful in preschool next year. I want you to go, but I don't. Last week, we had our first (and hopefully last!) experience with the Epi Pen, with your allergies making something bad happen to your mouth and throat. I hope we never have to do that again. It made me realize two things: Yes, I CAN stab you with a needle if necessary, and NOW I am worried about sending you out into the world where I can't watch you every single second of the day.
You snore, and breathe heavy and funny and might need to get your tonsils and adenoids out. You have very little hair, and I am not sure why. You now weigh almost as much as your sister, and your feet have almost caught up to hers making shoes more interesting. I think you are about the most normal on the growth chart of your siblings, which makes you seem big.
Potty training is good enough for now. You will make it to Kindercise with your Fwiends in two weeks. That has been your motivation, good old peer pressure and a goal that you love. You love to dance. I am not sure how class is going to go without me, but in two weeks we find out.
I just lost a bit of time there so this is is posting after midnight. Tomorrow there will be photos and fun and as many of your favorite things that we can manage in a day. Love, and snuggles, and everyone doing what they can to love you.
Tonight you went to bed two, will wake up three, and if you can stay, just a little, like you are now, that would be perfect. I don't know how to handle you growing up, but you are, and you are perfect just the way you are. I love you, so much, sweetheart, and I am just so glad you came into my life. Our family needed you, and you needed us. What a perfect fit.
Love always,
Mommy
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