I don’t remember the exact specifics of how the story goes, but when I was pregnant with Kate, my mom told me a story about how when SHE was pregnant with my sister, she thought she knew how much she would love her baby and that her dad sort of patted her on the head and said…sure you do, honey. But just you wait. And then, once Jamie was born, my grandfather said to mom, “See? Now do you know?”
We all think we know, don’t we? We all think we know just how much love our hearts can hold or how awesomely prepared we are to bring a child into the world. We don’t have a freaking clue what love is until that baby cries out in the delivery room and you realize you’ve just taken your first breath right along side of theirs. Until you lock eyes with her (or him) and realize, “Oh! Oh, THIS is what I’m here to do!”
Well, Miss Kate Olivia….YOU are what I am here for. I didn’t know it until you got here three years ago, but I’ve known it wholeheartedly since.
When you turned two, I wrote down a list of the cute words I never, ever wanted to forget. I loved how you called yourself “Tate” and asked for “bups of boof” and “didit.” I’d do the same for you at three, but you speak like a professor of paleontology. You know more than we do…about so many things. Your daddy & I watch and listen to you and wonder “where the heck did she learn that?” Little sponge, you are, my girl. We marvel at where your sense of comedic timing came from…(well, we know WHO it came from, but when? When did you turn into this person and not just a baby??)
You’ve grown with epic leaps and bounds this last year in just about every way, but there are still little snippits of my baby girl. You still LOVE your crib and I’m not certain we’ll ever be able to get you into a big girl bed. Grandma swears you will one day be potty trained, but you’re so stubborn (sooooo stubborn) that you may very well never be. To some of our friends with older kids, you will likely always be known as “baby Kate” but you are truly no longer a baby. You are a big girl now with thoughts, opinions (oh so many opinions) and plans.
You might make me a little crazy most days. (You are exactly like I’ve been told that I was at the same age…karma.) You make me laugh a thousand times a day. You make me as proud as a parent could possibly be every SECOND of every day. You are my favorite person in the world and I adore who you are. Sometimes I wish I could keep you this age forever, yet I can’t wait to watch the rest of your crazy, wild and beautiful life unfold.
Happy third birthday to the very best part of me.
My cup runneth over,
Mommy