June 12, 2009

And Now She Is Three

Today I was driving with the kids in the car when I caught myself saying "Evie! Look! A firetruck!" Of course, she couldn't have cared less about a firetruck. But sometimes the mama-of-boy in me still leaps out with a "look at the digger!" or "See the train?" All things that came out of my mouth multiple times a day when Briton was three. Briton is now almost seven and can a) spot the train/car/digger/firetruck on his own and b) isn't really interested in things that go these days. Now if a Triceratops crossed the street at the intersection in front of us, well, that would be a different story. But sometimes I still find myself pointing out the things that Briton would have squealed with delight for once upon a time. Girls are just a different kettle of fish. or at least, mine is.

I am daily amazed at how girly my girl is. What kind of cake do you want Evie? Pink! What color toothbrush? Pink! Which shoes do you want to wear today? You guessed it. PINK! Or sometimes red, since they are nice and shiny and have a pink poof on the buckle. Last year about this time I remember rolling my eyes at some mother talking about taking her toddler to get a pedicure. I would never. I told myself. I'm not sure why I even bother to think those kinds of thoughts. After seven years of parenting, you would think I would have learned. Yes, this morning, I took Evie to have her very first pedicure. And know what? She loved it. She loved picking out her nail polish (three guesses what color it was) and she loved having them file her nails. She held perfectly still while they painted them and after for a good fifteen minutes while they dried. She is my little pink girl. And I love it.

Time is passing so quickly this time. Faster even than with Briton. It seems such a short time ago that I sobbed because I had to leave her in the ICU and go home when they needed my room for another mom in labor. Just yesterday that she slept all bunched up on her tummy taking up a tiny part of that huge crib. And now she is three. She has long pigtails and a sassy little pout and changed clothes no less than seven times today, once appearing with a full blown princess gown, ready for a ball. Now she is three and everything has to be pink and sparkly. She has named her new doll "Three" and sings mixed up lullaby's to herself while flipping through Highlights High Five. She makes snotty faces and is not always the one wronged anymore in battles with her brother because now she knows how to fight back. Now she is three. And next she will be four. And I think my heart has broken just a tiny bit today. No more toddler. No more baby. No more diapers or sippy cups (unless she's feeling like she wants one, and then big girl cups WILL NOT DO!) Now she is three.