dear mia...on your third birthday

Dear Mia,

For every day, through July 30th, I called you my "two year old baby." I wanted to keep you little as long as I could. And even though I know three is still little, it feels more like a little girl age, not so much a baby anymore. And the truth is, you are really growing into a little lady.

You are crazy smart. You are beautiful. You are mischevious yet honest. You are brave and strong. You don't believe being small is a limitation on your ability to lift heavy things or climb to high places. You love babies and strongly dislike most animals. You love big and are loud when you're angry. 

I don't feel like words can accurately encompass how big your personality is. You challenge me in ways Laci never dared and yet, I can't help but laugh at you most of the time, even in your worst moments. Your blue eyes mesmerize me and your soft curls are irresistible. 

You talk. All. The. Time. You have many opinions, thoughts, and stories to share. And since you've been talking since forever ago, you bless us with complete sentences and complex words. You also repeat anything you hear so I have been trying really hard to use only my child-appropriate language. For the sometimes frequent slip-ups, we are working on why some words are for grown ups only. 

You are a momma in your heart already. I hope you grow up to have as many babies as you want and I pray they are all healthy little bundles of love. You already take such great care of your dolls... feeding them, changing diapers, "pumping" milk for them. Yes, you parade around with a breast pump sometimes. I find it amusing. You also try to take care of your brother, but as he gets bigger it is becoming less like playing baby and more like wrestling. I think he likes it that way. 

Your big sister is your best friend and you don't even realize it. You play so nice together when you aren't bickering over toys or pinching each other. And you and Harper are becoming friends too. The hot and cold type of friends where you either love each other or hate each other. I'm sure it will even out over time. 

I should probably keep a better record of the hilarious, sometimes shocking, things that come out of your mouth.  After pushing Harper the other day, you very matter-of-factly announced, "She tried to climb in my stroller and I didn't like it, so I pushed her." Something about your sweet voice and blatant honesty makes it hard to be mad at you.  But, we did have a little talk about not pushing people.

I love you you how you say "bannerina" (ballerina) and "punk-ems" (pumpkins).  How everything that happened before today must have happened "yesterday" even if it was months ago, and everything that will happen after today must be happening "tomorrow."

You had a follow up with your hernia surgeon last month, so we talked about the scar on your belly, why it's there and how the doctors fixed it. A few days later, during breakfast, you pulled up your shirt and said to Laci, "One time, yesterday, I had a hole in my belly and the doctor fixed it." And then you finished your cereal and didn't say another word about it for weeks. 

You have potty trained yourself. I mean, I've been helping you, but for the past month it's been your choice to wear undies instead of a diaper. Every few days you would go back to a diaper and I would just go along with it. I'm not really a fan of cleaning up accidents. You are now diaper free, even at night. I'm so very proud of you and I'm proud of me for being patient enough to wait until you were ready. We argue enough as it is, no sense in adding more fuel to the fire. And speaking of arguing, I finally took your bottle away, and after a few weeks of meltdowns and crying, you've stopped asking for it (mostly).

Happy birthday my feisty little angel with the mischievous heart and the wild hair.  I can't express enough how glad we all are to have you with us today.

Love, hugs, and kisses,
Your Momma
xoxoxo

***all photos taken on your last evening as a two year old...some camera, some iPhone***

noah | eight months

Dearest boy of mine,

When you wake up from your naps and I pick you up out of your bed, you wrap your tiny arms around my neck and hug me. Like really hug. A big squeeze.  And you lay your head on my shoulder. And it's the sweetest thing ever. You are never allowed to be too old or too big or too cool to hug me. Ever.

So.  Eight months old now.

You still have just two teeth.
You pull yourself up all the time and cruise along the furniture.
You also let go of the furniture because you think you can walk.
But you can't.
So you fall down and sometimes get hurt and then you cry.
I think you also cry because you are just mad that you can't walk yet.
You only want food you can feed yourself.
We let you gnaw on some corn and French bread the other day.
I'm pretty sure it was the best moment of your whole life.
You love the water.
Like really, really love the water.
When you see the pool, or the tub, or a puddle, you want to be IN it.
You aren't satisfied just floating around either. You get really mad when I put you in the baby floatie. You need to be fully IN the water.
Kicking your legs and splashing and putting your face down in it.
Like almost drowning IN it.
I love it.
You say "da da da da da" while I whisper "ma ma ma ma ma" in your ear.
But I know you love me more.
You are a busy, busy boy.
If your eyes are open, you're moving.  Or wiggling.  Or crawling.  Or pulling up.
Putting you to bed has become a wrestling match I do not enjoy. 

Slow down little man, you will not miss anything by taking your time. 

And oh man, do you think your sisters are awesome.
Their room, their toys, their hair. You can't get enough.
I doubt you'll always be so enamored by them.
But I'll let you in on a secret.
They love you too.
Yes, even Laci who freaks out anytime you get near her "special" stuff and threaten to cover it in slobber.
They love you so much.

I could go on for days about all the cute things you do and how much we love you, but I don't have that kind of time. You're probably trying to eat something off the floor or climb on top of the table at this very moment. 

Love you bunches my boy,

Your momma

Xoxo

PS:  I really should have thought ahead about how I would contain you in a chair for each of these monthly pictures.  No worries, your daddy was just outside of the frame catching you each time you tried to fling yourself out of the chair.