Dear Annie,
I have drafted this letter about 1,000 times in my head so I figured it is time to put it down officially or it won't ever happen. You are three.
The problem is, I don't even know where to begin.
You are awesome. You are funny. You know you are funny. You have even said "I like to make people laugh, mom." You are smart and one of the most observant people I have ever met. You notice when I change my makeup or if I already own an article of clothing similar to one I am eyeing at the mall. "You already have that shirt, Mom" is a common phrase uttered by you as I try to build up my collection of navy and white striped shirts in time for summer.
I knew you would be a great big sister, but I really thought that would just be when John got older. I had no idea. No idea. When he cries, you sing "twinkle twinkle wittle star" and he is instantly soothed. You make him laugh like no one else can. He is your biggest fan and it makes my heart hurt a bit to think about it. You always want to hold him and he loves being by your side.
This marked your first official year at "school" and you won the hearts of all your teachers and made some good friends. You never once looked back as I dropped you off and asked every day "Is today a school day?" You love being around people and playing games. You wait for "the girls" on our street to come home from school and make yourself visible in the front yard so they know you are available to participate in their activities.
You want so much to be "bigger". You want "big teef like yours, Mom!" and it always depresses you when you realize that you still can't master the monkey bars.
But you keep trying. You sing the Daniel Tiger song "Try try try try try it again. Keep trying, you'll get beh-eh-ter!" I have even caught you saying "I think I can!" when faced with an especially daunting task. Sometimes you get discouraged, and some tears are shed, but you never give up; you just resolve to try again another day. I can't tell you how proud this makes me. You are strong, confident and brave, and I love watching you try new things.
We are working on talking about our feelings, much to your Dad's dismay. You do a pretty good job of telling me when you are angry or your feelings are hurt, but we've had some hiccups. You pulled my hair the other night as I was leaning over to kiss you and I yanked my hair away and said NO PULLING HAIR! You immediately burst into tears and said I hurt your feelings.
I feel like I am just rambling because there is so much I want to capture. I can't believe I am so blessed to have such a wonderful daughter. You light up every day and I can't wait for you to get up every morning. Your Dad and I (and John!) adore you more than we could ever say. Thank you for being "my Annie".
I love you, sweet girl.
Mom
