Somewhere between "nothing good happens at this time of night" and "o'dark thirty," last night, two little fingers jabbed me repeatedly in the face. In my half-awake, no contacts haze, I could just make out two big eyes and curls swishing in front of me. The words came tumbling out, in that excited cadence of hers. "MOMMY. AM I FOUR?" she whisper-yelled. "IS TODAY MY BIRTHDAY?"
And thus my sweet girl kicked off her fourth birthday much how she spent every day of her threes. With exuberance and a genuine excitement for life. With joy and a desire to share her happiness with those around her. With a strong love of any good party. And with little recognition that most humans need more than a cat nap every night.
Three, in my mind at least, was the "Year Of All The Changes."
New house.
New church.
New school.
New sister.
But more than all the tangible, external changes in her little world, the big changes in B came this past year. Three was the year she shed those last vestiges of babyhood and fully became a little girl. Pass the Macallan, please.During three, there was a little less snuggling and hand holding during social events and a lot more bravery and friendships and exploring on her own. "I can do it myself" became a running refrain in our house, especially if that "it" was something she had seen a cousin - her role models for kid-hood - do. Less and less did I see her turn her head in music or ballet to make sure I was still there. To connect to home base. More and more, I saw her confidence lead her into a room, excited to be there. Sure in the knowledge that fun lay ahead.
As she grew taller, she became more self-sufficient and capable. Less often did a little voice call for me to hand something down and more often I saw long legs on the tips of their toes, stretching our little ballerina farther and farther to reach their destination. Occasionally, with that devilish twinkle in her eye, she used this to her advantage. "I am eating the cookie because I could reach it" or "I am coloring with the Sharpie because my hand could touch it" seemed liked perfectly logical excuses for all manners of infractions. More often, she used her growing capabilities for good. I am embarrassed to admit how many times those sweet little hands reached up to fill up a cup of water for me during those awful first months of pregnancy. After the morning sickness finally subsided and Baby K was here, those legs and hands were used for fetching baby sister all the diapers, toys, blankets, and books a newborn could want. B did it not because she was asked but because she instantly fell in love with her baby sister and loved nothing more than to make Baby K laugh.
Three was the year her vocabulary expanded rapidly. A stronger language grasp meant fewer tantrums due to an inability to communicate. On the flip side, however, the larger vocab introduced us to Bargain B. I don't know if it is her eternal optimism or general strong-willed nature, but every plan or comment was up for negotiation in her mind. Three books before bed? How about seven? Seven is better than three. That would be a good idea. Momma, say it would be a good idea. Say iiiiitttttttt. 
What could I have for breakfast? Not cereal. Not fruit. Maybe something... hmmm... what about something cold? And white? With chocolate chips in it? Maybe ice cream? That could be cold and white with chips. That would be a good idea. Her new vocabulary also allowed her heart to shine through more. There wasn't a day that went by that Baby K wasn't told she was the sweetest baby in the whole wide world. Or that B let her Daddy know she was proud of him for emptying the dishwasher. Or that her family makes her heart happy. Sure, sometimes it also meant she told the dogs they were "the worst of ever of everything." And occasionally she told strangers that Baby K's favorite thing to eat was trash and Daddy loved to poop. But mostly, during this year, we heard love and affirmation. Affection, kindness, and a real heart for others constantly poured out of those precious three-year-old lips.
Three was also the year her imagination took off in full force. Every construction site wasn't going to be another Starbucks strip mall. No. It would be a castle, tall and steadfast, flags billowing from the turrets, princesses peeking out of every window. Princesses and Santa and the Easter Bunny were all very real to her this year and filled her with wonderment and glee. A new imaginary friend appeared in March and now we can't do a thing without her, right there, asking for chocolate or a pony or taking the blame for some wrongdoing. No car trip - no matter how small - is complete without a "puhtend" game of Go Fish or B's animated retelling of a classic story.
Three, of course, was the year B became a big sister. Though I worried about how the sudden arrival of a new little would rock the Queen B's world, she took to it with grace and aplomb. There is nothing that delights her more than helping get baby sister out of the crib in the morning. B is all smiles as she greets her little sister, telling her it will be a wonderful day and that she is so, so loved. B introduces K proudly to everyone we see - even our friends who have met her a million times by now. "This is MY baby sister Katherine. She is a girl. She is the sweetest baby in the whole wide world." Though B may sometimes rage about little sister touching her toys or looking at her books, B is fiercely defensive of K. If B feels that K has been crying too long, we will surely all hear about it - even long after K has been comforted and calmed.With her new found independence, B also became fiercely aware that she could control (within limits what she wore). Rarely could we leave the house without two dress changes, trying to find the most pink, "most fanciest" thing in her closet. She requested everything have a "BBK" and asked other littles at the park where their monograms were, bless their hearts. We laughed at her insistence that she only visit Kroger in full princess regalia, mainly just so we didn't have to admit we created this clothing monster.
In some ways, three was a hard, hard year in the world around B. A rough pregnancy. The upheaval and complete chaos of suddenly doubling the number of little ones dependent on you. Continued mourning.
But watching B as a three year old was a beautiful thing. It was a joy every day to see her grow and learn. To hear her laugh, easy and unencumbered, pure joy. To feel those hands around my neck for good night snuggles and hear those feet running down the hall to greet me. To see her mind develop and expand. To witness her excitement at a new book or beautiful flower or dog with it's shaggy head outside a neighboring car. To see how easily loving her neighbor comes to her. B hasn't met a soul that she hasn't tried to make family. She showers strangers and friends with love. Much like her own sweet granma, she makes whoever she is with feel like they are the most special person in the world.
Yes, three was a complete joy. Despite the occasional diva comments and #threenager fits, it was a joy. So, we say goodbye to it with a little bit of sadness. A little touch of melancholy that this year - with these moments of innocence and wonder and new adventures- has passed. That another birthday has come without my momma - her ganma - here to celebrate or bear witness to who this little girl is becoming.But we also say goodbye to three with a lot of excitement and anticipation. Four will surely be another year of growth and love and adventure and pure fun. I am excited to see where four takes you, my darling girl. You are a ray of sunshine that brings more joy than I can ever express. I am so thankful to get to be your momma. Happy birthday, my sweet Bon Bon.
