Dear Bria

May 9, 2018

Dear Bria,

You have been asking if you’re three yet, for a month, holding up your pinky, ring and middle finger so carefully, so ready to turn “bee!” which is how you currently pronounce three. “I bee yet, Mama?”  Since April, every time you’ve wanted to do something but have had to wait, your answer has been “Maybe on my birs-day.” No candy for a snack? “Maybe on my birs-day!” No bubble bath tonight? “Maybe on my birs-day!” Waffles for dinner? “Maybe on my birs-day!” We were driving the other day, and you asked if I had seen a school bus yet; I said not yet, and your answer was of course, “Maybe on my birs-day!”

Well baby girl, your birsday is here. You are officially three.

You’re tall, stretching out, surprising everyone who asks your age. You and Addie could share clothes, you’re so close in size…but that would require actually wearing clothes, which isn’t something you’re interested in these days, Ole Captain Underwear. You are always playing, wrestling, swinging, wearing yourself out, hair everywhere, typically at least a little dirty. You love Wallie – and any dog, really- especially the slobbery kisses. You could watch Doc McStuffins every day, and frequently call our names to doctor us, often spacing out half way through to doctor a toy instead. You love gathering at least 7 tiny toys/figures in your hands so they can have loud but fairly unintelligible conversations with each other, albeit always enthusiastic and often with songs mixed in. You love pointing out which letters go with which family members, and every afternoon, you snuggle up beside your big sister to watch a show or one of the musicals, which both of you love. You love to play with your cousins and friends; you are no stranger to chaos.  Given your propensity to run into walls, trip over things, and fall off whatever you’re climbing, we’re just waiting for that first ER visit and hope it’s not too serious.

You’re still scared of loud noises, the lawn mower, any bug that’s not an ant, the mean dog in Up, and that your hair will blow away in the wind. But you are very proud that you’re not scared of the fire pit or elevators or snow and sledding anymore, announcing “I no dared now!” While you’re hesitant and cautious, once you figure something out, you’re all in.

You love being messy. Painting always ends up being hand painting at the least. If Addie is licking the spoon, your entire face is licking the bowl. You love being upside down, love flying by on the scooter, love picking out books at night, and looking at old pictures. You’re working hard with Ms. Susie on speech, and are so proud when you figure something out. School days are your favorite – shapes, colors, your friends you name regularly, bringing artwork home, seeing Addie on the playground. And a project at the house isn’t complete without Bria helping, following with a rag or a hammer, or sometimes just a continual “What you doin?.... Why? ….Why?”

You’re curious (What dat noise??) and kind, bringing Addie your elephant if she’s upset. You talk about Abram in the sky, and coo when we talk about him, as though you knew his tiny spirit – which I think your heart most certainly does. You lean on my belly now, asking if “Yittle Yove” is going to be big, big big! You love stories of you as a baby, and I love telling them. You were so tiny, fuzzy… a little yellow for weeks, and a lot fussy for longer. You weren’t so sure about the world. We didn’t know then that it took your own time to get used to things. But now, just like everything, you’re all in.

I love watching you grow. I love watching you be, entertaining yourself in the play kitchen, covering your babies with blankets gently one minute, smashing cars together the next, building legos with your sister, running through the LC dell, copying everything Adalyn does. I love your scrawny strong limbs and ears that are still just slightly too big. I love how you snuggle, arm wrapped around our neck, cheek to cheek. I love remembering you as a baby in the carrier on my back or sleeping on your dad in the rocker, holding on to Elephant’s tail. I love your laugh and funny faces and button nose, and that you're mine.

Three years ago, after 10 hours of labor and then a whooping 4 minutes of barely pushing, they laid you on my chest, and your Dad laid his hand on your back. You were 5 pounds, 14 ounces, and a ball of swaddled pink and blue blanketed, wiggling, newborn smelling love. My heart doubled, even more so when Adalyn first peeked in the blanket to meet her sister, and promptly sneezed on your face. You’ve known true sisterhood since Day 1, kiddo. Now, I can’t imagine our family without you. Today may be your birthday and when we remember our first days getting to know your tiny self, but every day, I look at you and my heart can feel the gratitude for your carefully wild spirit and sweet heart. You are so loved baby girl. Happy birthday to you….you’re three!

I love you,

Mama