My Dear Edie,
You turned three years old this week. Happy Birthday! Part of what I want to give you this year (and every year from now on) is a letter from your mother. A little note describing what living with you this past year has been like for us. My hope is that you will one day grow to cherish these letters and our website as you become a mother yourself. Not to flaunt it in your face when your child takes nine months to potty train, and you want to pull out every strand of your hair. But to remind you that even on the days when I question why God made me a mother, YOU are totally worth it.
This year we threw a party at Chuck E. Cheese in your honor. You spent the month before your birthday inviting everyone you came into contact with to celebrate with you, which then put me in the awkward position of uninviting them since we were trying to keep it small. You didn’t know what Chuck E. Cheese was, and for some reason, you were convinced that we would play checkers during your party. When I would try to explain that what we were going to do was way better than checkers, you couldn’t fathom it. In your almost three year old logic, if there weren’t jumpy jumps, then there must be checkers.
I don’t think you were disappointed with your party even though there were no checkers. In fact there was a moment during the party that I would like to hold on to forever. An incident that sums up the kid you are and the kid I want you to continue to be. As Chuck E. Cheese himself came out to start a Congo line and dance with you and your friends, you stopped in the middle of the madness, came running to me, and kissed my hand. You looked up at me with your big beautiful eyes and said, ‘Thank you Mommy!’
Now, I know I am like 100 weeks pregnant, and it doesn’t take much to send me over the edge these days. But even talking about that moment makes me well up inside. You are without a doubt the sweetest kid I know. You are appreciative and have this nature about you that wants to please us. In fact, when I praise you for something like having good manners or picking up after yourself, your response is always, “You happy, Mommy?”
You genuinely want to be with me or your dad and are always grateful when we spend time together. The one thing you want to do most of all, will drop whatever it is you are playing, or turn off any movie for is me or your father to play in your room with you. Rarely does a day go by that you don’t make that request of us, and you’ll play whatever we suggest just to keep us there with you.
We are so proud of you, Edie. I know that is a cliche thing for a mother to say, but no kidding. Your dad and I pride ourselves on the fact that we have a really great marriage. We work together, have created a business together, and are genuinely each other’s best friend, but the best thing we have done together, by far, hands down, is you. In fact, it is rare a week goes by that we don’t spend at least one night staying up past midnight just talking about how great you are, something funny you have said, or the woman that you will one day become.
I know people make references to the two’s as being pretty terrible: full of tantrums and screaming fits. I would be misrepresenting us if I didn’t admit that we’ve had some days this year that felt pretty terrible, but we have also had some days that were wonderful–full of belly laughs and giggles, telling stories, and dancing. With each new stage of your life comes new challenges, but getting to spend this past year with you has been one of the sweetest of my life. I love who you are becoming, and I can’t wait to see what you are like at three.
Love,
Mommy
