For Lucy

You're about to turn three. It's just a matter of days. You're growing so fast. Sometimes I'm not quite sure what to do with you.

You're so bright.

So happy.
Most afternoons when I return from meetings, you greet me with a big hug and the heart-melting phrase, "Oh, Mom! I'm so glad I can see you!!"

Everyday when we step outside for the first time you holler, "It's a bea-U-tiful day!!" Rain or shine.

So smart.
You can spell, write, and read short words. You draw like a maniac. Your articulation is arresting.

So imaginative.
Every morning you say to me: "I've got a great idea...." And you always do have great ideas. (Except for the ones that involve Vaseline caked on your hands and face.)

In the bath, sometimes you delight me with enthralling tales: "Once upon a time there was a big ol' rag..." I've considered sending your Washcloth Adventures to a publisher.

A few weeks ago your dad and I woke to the sound of our bedroom door creaking open. The clock showed 3:29am. I sighed in my sleepiness and prepared for the usual trip to the bathroom or quick drink of milk. But that night you didn't whine for either of those things. You simply climbed on our bed and dove immediately into an elaborate tale about Care Bears and squirrels and a picnic. Your dad and I kept looking from you to the clock to each other with raised eyebrows and baffled expressions.

So fun.
Our first park outing this almost-spring featured your enthusiastic "That was REALLY FUN!!" after each trip down the slide. All 10,003 of them.

So good.
Of all the words that make up your vast vocabulary, I most love to hear you say: "OK!" and "I'm coming!" and "Alright."

My heart smiles when you say, "Thank you E-ver so muuch!" It beams when you say, "Dear Heavenly Father..."

Sometimes, truthfully, you are a wart. (A few days ago we were at Target and you were feeling impatient in your cart-seat. You thrashed and trash-talked enough that I said something like, "Honey, stop this. Let's talk nicely to each other." You immediately found your sweet-as-honey voice and said, "I do talk nice with my frie-ends. I just talk mad with you." Oh. Right.)

But you're learning so much. The other day after you dried your hands in the Cannon Center bathroom, you threw away your "drier" and turned to leave. As you walked, you saw someone else's paper towel on the floor. You picked it up and put it in the trash. I praised you. We then walked past the full length mirror heading for the exit, but just before we reached the door, you ran back to the mirror, pointed purposefully at your reflection, and said firmly, "That was a good choice!"

You will always be our sunshine.

You are my favorite color.

My favorite song.

My favorite game.

I loved you brand new.
I loved you at one. I loved you at two. Three????
SIGH!
I guess we'll see...