A Letter To My 3-Year-Old Daughter

Dear Emery,
You’ve been talking about this day for months. I’m not sure an hour goes by that you haven’t mentioned your birthday; I’ve heard you sing, “Happy birthday to me” over and over, and now the day is finally here.

June 25, like yours, is my favorite day of the year as well. It marked the point in my life, I discovered a different type of love I didn’t know was possible.

To think that you are officially three today is mind-boggling. The growth you’ve made in the past year puts me in awe. In the past year, you’ve learned to talk, which has been such a game changer for our relationship. I love our conversations in the car after daycare, hearing about your day and who you played with. The little quirks in your vocabulary and pronunciation is incredibly adorable. There are some things you need to work on, such as probably saying words in past tense. Instead of tired, you say tye-red. Instead of pooped, you say poop-ted. But please, don’t let me stop you from the cute little quirks.

My aspirations of you taking over this blog have dwindled this past year. You might have the worst diet in America. Your current favorite meals are either dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets with loads of ketchup, fries with loads of ketchup, honey-flavored Teddy Grahams, Wheat Thins, Cheeze-Its, or anything sugar. You despise chocolate and cold-flavored treats like ice cream. To you, it’s yuuuuucky or dis-tusting. But if you were saying it in past tense, it’d be dis-tus-ted.

Your personality has amplified. While you’re still very shy around strangers, you have no problems being the center of attention around those you know. Dancing, jumping, and singing bring you joy. The soundtrack to Trolls is constantly on repeat in the car. We still go on many daddy/daughter dates, experiencing all the food and fun available in our city. Those will never end. Every second we spend together is a memory I cherish.

Things you hate include mascots (unfortunately that includes Wu at Shocker games, Windy at Wind Surge games and Thunder Dog at Thunder games), healthy food, anything that requires being adventurous, clean bedrooms, and going to bed on time. Let me tell you, you’re learning to be quite deceiving in your ploys to stay up late. It works 5% of the time with your mom and 95% of the time with me.

I want to also thank you for learning finally to accept the fact that you will be taking a picture with a pizza box every year now. Mommy asked me when this would stop, and I’m thinking between 21-50. For the past two years, you hated it, but this year, you were happy to do it. Granted, you were bribed with lollipops and toys.

Months 1-12

Year 2

Year 3

Letter To My 3-Year-Old

I’m always going to be your biggest fan, baby girl. You bring me so much joy and love. It’s hard to not have casual conversations with friends, family, co-workers, or strangers and having me not talk endlessly about you. I used to be so annoyed going somewhere with your grandmother as a kid and listen to her talk about her kids. I’ve turned into grandma… except with more gray hair and slightly taller.

People tell me terrible threes are worse than terrible twos. Maybe I’m biased, but two was very easy to me. You’re getting quite the attitude and showing some sass, so let’s try to limit that.

Aside from all that, happy birthday, baby girl. You’ll forever be my little baby, even as you get older and older. I love you more than humanly possible. There simply aren’t enough words to describe it. But maybe you’ll understand it if I say it like you do, “I wuv you.

Your #1 Fan

P.S. – Can we please start poop-ted in the toilet? It’s not as scary as you think, unless you just ate a Rene’s Colorado burrito at 3 a.m.

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