Happy Second Birthday to my Little Girl

Two years ago today, my little princess, you arrived on the scene and were instantly given membership to our little club. And, if I may be frank, we've been just tickled pink to have you. I had been drowning in a sea of testosterone before you showed up and it's been an absolute pleasure having another female on board for the past 24 months.

Although, at two years old, femininity is not exactly your niche. As I feared, Things 1 and 2 have rubbed off on you a little bit. You like to get . . . . dirty.


You enjoy playing with trucks. You prefer boys' underwear to cute and frilly little girls panties and you continually sneak into your brothers' room each morning to discard the charming feminine ensemble I've dressed you in in favour of boys' clothing. You like hockey, sports, and balls of all kinds, and you can throw a left hook like the best of the boys in the ring.

But that is not to say that you don't have your "girly" side. You do gravitate towards pink and you occasionally get out of bed in the morning and demand you wear "tights, mommy". So we sit, cross-legged, on the floor of your room together and choose from all the bright, colourful pairs of warm knit tights the ones you will wear on that particular day.


2009 was the year of the "baby" for you. You fell deeply in love with all of them - crisp, new baby dolls with soft bald little heads, fluffy and adorable tiny bunnies, puppies, and kittens, and, yes, even real actual human babies. You are gentle and cautious around baby R, who we are lucky enough to have living across the street from us. You have been deeply infatuated with him ever since he was born last summer. I have a sneaking suspicion you would be honoured to show him the ropes of our 'hood as he gets older.


You, Thing 3, are shy and quiet in front of strangers. Friends and neighbours gush with delight over the cuteness of your soft whispering voice.

"Yes. I'd like a cookie," you say.

Which, ironically, becomes "I WANT A COOKIE" when we are alone at home with no captivating audience for you to entrance. Is it, again, your two older brothers who cause you to feel the need to make yourself heard while we're at home? Because you needn't fear, little one, I'm taking it all in.

This was definitely the year you became more comfortable with your language skills. It seemed like almost overnight you went from sounding out syllables, to speaking a few words, to piecing together sentences, to the non-stop verbal diarrhea with which I am now quite familiar.

You're a clever one, too. Your patience and concentration are lending themselves well to your creative play - working on puzzles, stacking blocks, colouring, painting, and drawing. You are fairly close to putting the whole alphabet together (and because I am your mother I am not one bit concerned when you leave half a dozen letters out!). You are crazy about music, singing, and dancing and I would be lying if I didn't say I think you've got some rhythm.

As the third child, and last in the birth order, you are experiencing many of life's precious experiences far sooner than you should. You ate peanut butter before any pediatrician would ever recommend it, you've had candy on Halloween (yes, the sticky kind), your oldest brother slipped you a stick of gum - it's gotten to the point that when a friend or family member starts with "is it okay for Thing 3 to have . . . ." I cut them off before they need to finish.

"Yup, she can have it, " I offer, gazing around to see if the secret you-gave-it-to-them-too-young police are around writing me a citation. You've ridden on the big rides, you've swam in the deep end, you've worn lipgloss, and I'm pretty sure you watched an entire Star Wars movie with your brothers. Oh yeah. And then there was that choking-hazard popcorn.

Your bright, blue, hypnotizing eyes are like a window to your soul. You are by far the most expressive child I have ever encountered. Looking at you in all your innocence I see the compassion you already bear, the love and joy you embody, the hurt you occasionally feel, and the awe and amazement you experience in every passing moment of each day.


I love watching the beautiful person you are becoming. To be actively involved every minute of your journey through life.

Just do me one small favour, okay?

Slow it down a little, would ya?

Happy Birthday, Thing 3!!