Sometimes I forget. Their three lives sometimes meld into one indistinguishable “baby” or “toddler” memory and I am unable to separate out whose experience was whose. I catch myself asking Kevin “who liked this?” or “who did that when they were a baby?” – maybe I am just getting old or maybe it is a natural consequence of having 3 children in 4 years.
I was certain he had seen a bubble machine before, but when I turned it on, he “whooped” in surprise with his whole body in the way that only the very young or uninhibited can do. He watched in amazement as a cloud of milky soap bubbles were carried away in the wind, desperately trying to catch and keep hold of them in his chubby toddler hands. Squeals of gleeful amazement echoing across our neighbourhood of retirees and childless professionals. He ran back and forth through the stream of orbs and delighted when they popped around him. “Again! Again!” he cried when the soap ran out. We went through half a bottle of bubble mix, only going inside as his sister’s patience finished.
This one, I won’t forget.
Today, my favourite little girl, you turn 3. However, we aren’t allowed to mention that because you insist you are 2 and will not be turning 3. (And, having known you for the last 3 years, we know that this is a battle there is no point in fighting.)
You have a total mind of your own.
You love to talk and will happily chat away to anyone who will listen, walking up to strangers to introduce yourself and your constant companion, Theo.
You are mama’s studio buddy. You love to make necklaces with yarn and are often caught unravelling mama’s work to make them. You would draw all day if you could.
You love porridge, chicken, animals and your brothers. In fact, I have never seen a little girl so in love with her family.
You are not so keen on bed time, hair brushing or pasta.
I count it amongst my greatest blessings in life that you came into my life 3 years ago today.
Love you, Cookie Head.