I have three kids, you know.
The youngest is this strange being who is perpetually tiny and soft, sweet, and totally liftable and cuddly.
Except- she's not.
Today my baby is three.
Three as in too many scoops of ice cream, too many sugars in your tea. Numbers in your credit score.
I never thought I'd have three kids – and then I did. And now the one I never expected is getting to be an actual person. Thoughts and feelings and personality out the wazoo.
For all the ways I fall short – I don't know what to do with curly hair, I don't really put much stock in matching socks, I let you marinate your stinky feet in rubber galoshes and I probably introduced you to Family Guy way too early – I'm sorry. I try to be what you need, because you were and are everything our family needed to be complete.
I will spend the rest of forever helping you become whoever it is you are meant to be – because you have made us all everything we are.
Happy birthday, Lucy Grace.