Dear Super Bee,
I can hardly believe that today marks the third anniversary of your birth. It’s been an amazing ride so far – exhausting but amazing. You have grown into the most inquisitive and funny little person. You keep us all so entertained and constantly on our toes.
You can play by yourself so well and then be climbing all over us. You love wrestling with daddy, and watching “Girls” with mommy. You’re speaking so much more clearly and can tell us exactly what you want for the most part. You love shoes and hats and dresses. You are obsessed with the twinkle lights that come on in your room every day, and you have to have your fan on whenever you’re in bed. You love to go look at toys at Walmart/Target, and you know immediately that the blue oval sign means that we’re at the grocery store and that you have make sure we know that you “need” to walk.
There is so much I see of myself in you. Your love of books. Your need to do things your way. Your need to do things on your schedule. The ridiculous crinkle nerdy face you make. The look you give when someone tells you not to do something and you know you’re going to do it anyways. But all of those things are still so uniquely you. You are such a lively little character. From singing and dancing in public and putting on a show for anyone who will watch to throwing a fit when we drive past Oma and Opa’s exit on the highway and not stopping to yelling, “I happy!” and jumping up and down when you are, well, really happy about something.
Every day comes with new challenges as you get bigger and braver and smarter. You are stubborn and ornery at all the wrong times. It drives me crazy in the moment, but I know it’ll make you unstoppable when you’re older. You are so curious about the world. You love to mimic us in every way. Just the other day you told me that you had to cook in your kitchen and showed me the toy croissant in your frying pan. After we read your bedtime story to you, you read it to us, trying to repeat each page that was just read to you. You told me just today that you need to take your bus to school and that you need books for school. It amazes me the things you are able to link together.
As a mom, I feel like it’s my job to teach you all kinds of things. You can identify almost all of the letters of the alphabet and can count to 10. What amazes me though is that you are constantly teaching me new things. Like patience. Not because you show me patience, but because I need more and more of it when dealing with your stubbornness on a daily basis. You’ve also been teaching me to be carefree. Like this past weekend and today, things didn’t go as planned for your birthday, and you didn’t even notice. You just just roll with the punches and make the best out of every situation. There’s fun no matter what the circumstances, and I hope that you stay that way forever. I am so not like that. I like order and I like plans and I like things to go the way I want. But motherhood (and life) isn’t like that. Things change in a matter of seconds from chasing bubbles to a scrapped knee. I don’t handle it as well as I’d like, but I watch you with your casual shoulder shrug and a soft mumble of gibberish and you’re off to the next adventure. I will continue to work on being looser in that respect. I never want to be a reason you hold back from doing something fun just because it’s challenging for me.
Something that amazes me on a daily basis is the how you’ve shown me a love that I didn’t honestly expect to see from you. At least not in the way and amount you’ve given. You became a big sister this year, and your love for your MattieG is amazing. You are a wild child – running around and singing at the top of your lungs – but you are so sweet and gentle with her. You wait for things you want while we feed her. You are always so concerned about getting her her pacifier. You tuck her in and give her kisses. She’s the first person you look for in the morning. It is so much more than I could’ve ever hoped and I hope you’re relationship with her only continues down this path.
You made me a mom, kid. And my gratitude to you for that will never waiver. Not even when I’m 90 and you’re 66. I will still be thanking you for picking me to be your momma. You changed everything and made the world so much brighter. I just know you’ll keep spreading your personal sunshine with everyone you meet, and I am so lucky I get to call you mine.