Three.
It’s a big number when you are such a little girl.
We no longer live with a baby. We live with a three. year. old. little. girl.
Yes, three.
Three years of pink.
Three years of learning little girl talk.
Three years of chicken nuggets, mac & cheese and ice cream.
Three years of automatic horsey rides in front of the grocery store.
Three years of love, laughter, kisses and hugs.
Three years of being a little girl.
Happy three years of perfection Scout.
Some days it seems like they have been a long twenty nine years. Other days it’s hard to comprehend that I’ve been on this Earth for 10, 585 days (give or take a Leap Year). Twenty nine years.
It all happened twenty nine years ago. It was Thursday and by mid morning I had been kicking up a storm. I was born when the meal should have been getting on to the table. Mom never lets me forget, “I didn’t get my pie.”
We had pie this year. And then out of nowhere in comes Shawn with a chocolate bundt cake with candles dripping wax onto the icing.
Today I’ve been filled with phlegm and congestion. I’ve also been filled with a lot of kind wishes from friends and family. Tomorrow is the day we will celebrate it. Out to dinner and a night of Cosmic bowling.
I’ve lived through –
eight surgeries * one funeral *two births * seventeen apartments/houses *ten jobs * one wagon ride through the Death Valley *three dogs *eleven tattoos * one marriage * two children * six years of playing softball * twenty seven years of riding horses * the Northridge earthquake * five white Christmases * saving my babysitter’s life * two cavities * winning a college scholarship * one AA degree * learning three languages * three broken ankles * being top cookie seller in my Girl Scout troop for three years * eleven states * seeing the remake of “Halloween” * sleeping on my stomach * learning how to sew *
I suppose I could go on. Twenty nine years of busy-ness. Doing stuff. Going places. Learning things. Meeting people. Asking questions.
Here’s to a few more!
iKnit.iPurl 