Dear Addison,
I am a month late with your birthday letter this time. Sadly, with a birthday the week before Christmas, the most hectic time of year, I'm sure this will not be the last time this letter is late. The chaos of the holidays are not my only excuse though. I've been thinking about this letter since then, thinking about all the things I want to tell you. I'm having a hard time accepting that you are three. You are no longer a baby, no longer a toddler. You are all big girl, and you remind us daily with your very adamant, "I BIG GIRL! I in PRESCHOOL!" I'm just not quite ready for you to leave the baby and toddler phase behind, and that translated into my putting off writing this letter. You are three though, whether I like it or not, and I really am enjoying three. I just need to find a way to put a little closure around the baby/toddler time.
One day recently, your dad said to me, "Were the other two this cute at this age?" Neither of us could remember. I'm quite sure they probably were, but it makes me sad that I don't remember. You guys are growing up too fast, and it is hard to remember all the little things. This letter will be about remembering... all the things I don't want to forget about your being three.
You say so many things that make us smile. Every time you say a word that ends with "ing", you make a funny little clicking sound with your tongue. You are completely unconscious of it, so I guess you just think it is part of the word. "Mommy, what you reading <click>?" "Daddy! Look! I sledding <click>!" It cracks us up, but I know some day you will probably lose the click. I don't want to forget it. I love the way you count too... "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 11, 8, 9, 10, 11, 8, 9, 10, 11..." The eleven serves as both a seven and an eleven, so you never get past it. We probably should correct you more often than we do, but it is just so endearing. I know you'll count correctly eventually. I'm in no rush for it to be perfect.
Then there are all the words you can't quite get right yet. We will forever call Goofy, "Doofy" after our recent Disney trip for your birthday, and Elise's poor American Girl Doll Ruthie is "Roofy". The word "your" is always "ors". You use that one so much that your dad and I have started using it as well. "Mommy, I play ors iPod?" "Daddy, you put on ors shoes." Once again, we should probably correct you, but we just love the sweetness of it. I don't think you'll drive off to college in "ors" car. You'll figure it out before then.
You are still in a very independent phase wanting to control as many things in life as you are able. When we go up the stairs, you tell me to wait at the bottom. Then, when you get to the top, you yell, "ONE, TWO, FREE, COME UP!" to grant me permission to continue up. Jackets, pants, socks, and shoes are all put on by you alone. You set your place at the table, get your own water, and serve your own food at meal times. You insist on opening and closing all doors which usually results in a big bottleneck in the doorway every morning as we all try to get past you with backpacks, laptops, and jackets.
You like to test how far you can push the control thing. Invariably, if you've asked me to help you with something, as soon as I start, you will say, "No! Daddy do it!" If you tell your dad that you want Cheerios for breakfast, as soon as he pulls the box out, you will yell, "No! I don't want that! I want Kix!" We don't let you rule the roost, but we do try to let you take that control in simple situations like going up the stairs one at a time. You get such satisfaction knowing that you were in command. You definitely like to consider yourself in charge 24/7 though.
You are a third child in every way. At age three, your sisters loved listening to the Wiggles, Laurie Berkner, or Roger Day. You, on the other hand, are a huge Beyoncé and Black Eyed Peas fan. Every time we get in the car, you request, "Mommy, I want Single Ladies. I single lady Addison." Then when I play your beloved Beyoncé , you yell, "Turn it up!", and you sing right along. You started preschool this month, and one morning, you packed up a tiny backpack with all your favorite books, blankets, and cars. Then, you put it on, walked up to Nina and said, "Look Nina! I got a pack-pack just like you guys!"
You are much more adventurous than your older sisters ever were, and that can be scary. Twice recently, we have caught you walking around the inside edge of the railing that goes around the top of the staircase. Both times, we didn't find you until you had walked all the way around and were probably 14 feet off the ground. None of the baby books tell you to babyproof the one inch wide ledge that goes around the stairwell. Who knew? Clearly, you have no fear of heights!
This month, you started both preschool and soccer. You are completely in your element with both. You love every aspect of preschool - the painting easels, the computer, the dramatic play area, the preschool playground. The transition was so simple for you, and I think you were really ready for a more challenging world around you. You are rarely ready to leave when I arrive in the afternoon to pick you up. We all miss seeing your old teachers, Mike and Mimi, each day. Mike still babysits for us a lot though, and you run by Mimi's room every morning to give her a hug.
You are having a blast playing soccer. Your sisters never played soccer this young, and I hadn't realized how cute three year olds look playing soccer! You love it.
You still have a fiery temper and can throw a wicked tantrum, but for the most part, we're finding three to be a fun age. We don't always have the patience to let you do everything by yourself, and we don't always give in to your controlling demands. This sets you off, of course, screaming until you are red in the face, but we get through it.
You are my sweet little muffin (or as you would correct me, "NO! I BIG muffin!"). Happy third birthday! I love you.
Love,
Mama
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