Emster--
Sheesh!!! Three years old--and AS USUAL, I am so late! Seriously, I've thought about it. Intended to do it. Wanted to do it--and it's a week late. Forgive me baby cakes. It is a problem.
Emmy Girl So, here you are. Three years old. Again and again, the passage of time baffles me. How it happens in these tiny moments which we don't acknowledge for the brilliant glimmering things that they are. All too often we are just simply trudging through to the next bit of rest. And the next thing you know a huge elapse of time has happened--and you can only reflect on the tiniest bits of it.
Wow this year was fun. You and your whirly, twirly, Go!, Go!, Go! spirit. Your capabilities and thoughts astound me. The tenderness of your heart. The very girliness of you. The fierce, protective determination of your love. It is obvious in every move you make that you would go to battle for anyone who you have chosen to love. There is no question in your willingness to leap to their defense and protection.
Your will is a force of nature. There is no breaking it. I am not even sure that it could be bent. Right now we are working on redirecting. Please don't misunderstand, I am in no way trying to break your spirit--or wear you down. We are just in the midst of a refining process. Both yours and mine. Even now, when I think about it, maybe it is more mine than yours. And perhaps, our wills are not all that very different. Just the way that we display them. Regardless, we forge on in the process. Refining, adapting, learning how to change and bend--bit by bit by bit.
You have single-handedly gotten into more things in this year than all the boys combined. Make-up is a favorite right now. I've scrubbed more make-up out of the carpet this year than ever before. Nail polish. Markers on yourself or the walls....crayon on ALL the walls. You walked around this summer and drew pictures on every wall upstairs (and you were very chagrined that I wasn't pleased with your artwork). You took a header off a retaining wall on a tricycle, got grass on your tonsils and were frustrated that I was holding you to assess the damage and not letting you back on the bike.
You are made of steel my girl. I don't know that it is even possible to explain how mesmerized I am every day to watch you. The way you launch yourself off 5 feet of mats at gymnastics without even blinking. Ride a bike at full tilt both in the cul-de-sac and around the kitchen. The way almost every morning at 2 o'clock this little person climbs over me in bed and snugs up as close as possible on my pillow. This morning you told me that the wind did it. The wind blew you out of bed and downstairs into our bed.
Emmy Grace, you are unlike anything I have ever witnessed in my life. I am wonder struck and humbled and blessed beyond measure to be your mom. I tell you all the time that you are my best girl. There are no words that will ever describe the way my heart melts when I look at you. I am so grateful for the very Emilyness of you. Grateful for all the ways that you are indescribable, baffling, remarkable and endearing.
"Just two girls." That's what you say to me. "We have four boys, and just two girls". So we do Emily. So we do. And I can't imagine anything different.
I love you Sunshine Girl. I love you forever. No. Matter. What.
