Three

Three is both utterly terribly exhausting and delightfuly wonderful at the same time. Aimee turned three a few weeks ago and every day is a new discovery. Every day she is able to command her tongue a little bit better and new phrases and words pour out of her mouth as if they were in there all the time just waiting to be freed.

New words and phrases:

Actually
Special
Did you hurt yourself, Mommy? Can I kiss it?
Are you done breaking? (After Brian explains to her that I'm taking a break).
BLUE'S CLUES IS COMING UP MOMMY! (Except that she still says "Blue's Blue's".)
Can I have a Tortilla?
What's that?
Mosquito bite (She has like 3 of them).
Brow
Oh My Dear! (Instead of: oh my God or gosh).

Today she finally came to understand that the Mexican looking baby in all those baby pictures she likes to keep in her room are of HER and not Daniel. He's the white looking baby. Which means that she now understands that she once was a baby herself and she is growing.

She has yet to understand that although many people like calling her "Princess", I am not, in fact, one of her servants who she commands with phrases like, "Mommmmy....Chocolate Miiiilllk" or "You clean it up for me, Mommy" or my favorite, "Mommmmy, you go find my bwanket".

The Wiggles are sooo last year and the Disney Princesses are where it's at.

Potty training, until now, has been an utter failure. I am convinced that her "accidents" are merely a form of rebellion and excersizes in showing me who's really boss.

She is demanding, headstrong, and vocal.

She also still smells like strawberries. She likes Target, asks if we can go for ice cream when we go on walks along the Naperville River Walk, and dances like a Puerto Rican when she hears dance music at the Frozen Yogurt place.

She has already skinned her knee twice this summer. We were half way to the park and I don't know if she cried more because she thought that we wouldn't go to the park anymore, or if it was because her knee hurt. I remembered what that felt like, the devastation of having awesome plans interrupted by a stupid accident, and the relief of making it to the destination even though everything didn't go as planned.

Three is awesome and sad at the same time. This is the last year I can call my little baby girl a "little baby". This year, all that is baby inside of her will be outgrown and a little girl will fully replace all of her babyness. It makes me want to cry.

My Little Danny is growing up!

I keep telling Daniel that he should just stay little for me. That I want him to stay my little baby forever so that I can just hold him in my arms and smell his soft little neck all day. He won't listen to me though. He keeps getting bigger and more like a boy. He can't sit still anymore and prefers to crawl all over the house now. Our gates are back up so that I can contain him in one area of the house. It looks like his first tooth will be coming in soon as well (He's 9 months already!). Changing him has become a challenge because he refuses to sit still. The minute I take his diaper off he flips over like a little alligator.

The other night, he woke up crying at 2 am, and it turned out to be a little gift to me because I got to go into his room and just hold him until he fell back asleep. I put him on my chest and laid back like I used to when he was a little newborn and he immediately fell asleep. I was so tempted to just stay like that the rest of the night.

I said it when Aimee was born, and it's true with Daniel. Time just speeds up when you have kids. All I want to do is hold on and slow things down a little bit, but time just won't stop for me, and Daniel won't stay little.