Dear Charlotte,
Today you are 3 years old! And with a birthday right at the beginning of September, it managed to sneak up on me a bit even though we’ve been talking about it for weeks. It’s August, and September feels far away, and then suddenly it is here! And you are 3!
You have changed so much over the last year, but it also feels like you have changed so much in just the last few weeks, as if you knew that turning 3 means big things and big developments. Since you will always celebrate another year around the time that school starts, so your birthday seems intricately linked with moving up to a new place and stage.
You transitioned to a new room at daycare and I admit that I was worried. You were very attached to your Room 4 teachers and friends, and would be moving to a room with both new teachers and a new set of kids. But while there were plenty of tears during your first week in Room 5, something flipped after that, and last week you were perfectly content to sit down at the table for breakfast, give me a hug, and then dig in without complaint as I walked out the door. I am relieved by your resilience to the change, and so proud of your growing adaptability as well.
Daddy started his third semester of teaching last Tuesday, and that night — our first “girls night” of the fall — was yet another vivid reminder of how much you have grown over the last year. Back then, you couldn’t talk much or really communicate your desires all that well. You often cried for a decent portion of the evening, and I remember struggling to make dinner while you hugged my leg, begging to be picked up and held. But this year? You were such a ray of sunshine! On the way home, you asked me what was for dinner, and cheered when you found out we were having hot dogs and macaroni. You ran excitedly into the lobby of Emma’s after-school and “hid” behind a rack of t-shirts to happily surprise her. We played, and I cooked, and we ate, and all was calm, and all was well.
You are starting to show quite the sense of humor, and keep me laughing on a daily basis with your funny faces and unexpected quips. One morning last week after we’d dropped Emma off at school and were headed to daycare, you started calling from the backseat that you “need ‘dose sunglasses!” I couldn’t figure out what you were talking about, but when I was finally able to turn around while at a stoplight, you pointed to this pair of joke glasses that were sitting in Emma’s cupholder. You were quite satisfied to finally get your hands on them, and spent the last few minutes of the drive trying to get them to stay on your face.
You have always been rather clumsy, and still trip over your own two feet on a frustratingly regular basis. But you are also becoming more physically adventurous, whether it’s jumping on the trampline last month at Emma’s birthday party or riding your tricycle in quick, tight circles around the back patio. You are also more resilient to falls, easier to console, and are quick to pronounce “all better!” after a few moments with an ice pack or the quick application of one (or several) band-aids.
You love Daniel Tiger, cheese sticks, hide-and-seek, coloring, loveys (stuffed animals), and swimming (as long as you don’t have to put your face in the water). You are a fairly picky eater, and difficult to bribe. Potty-training has been and continues to be a challenge. You are still a hugger and a snuggler, and your attachments to thumb-sucking and hair-twirling are firmly intact. You are sensitive, in ways both good and bad, with both highs and lows. You cry easily, and you laugh easily. I have watched you laugh while crying, and cry while laughing.
But you have an independent streak too, not to mention far more stubbornness than your sister — but I read an article recently saying that stubborn kids are more successful adults, and I can see how that may very well be true. You know what you want, and don’t often get distracted from that focus. You are lovable and fiery, and I’m confident that these traits will serve you well for the rest of your life.
I’m so happy to be along for the ride.
Love,
Mama