In the flash of the last 8 months, our baby adorable turned three. She's officially just about three-and-a-quarter, and the reality of that seems impossible.
In the flash of the last 8 months, our tiny girl has gone from diapers to pullups to panties, and training cups to travel mugs to not needing or wanting that first morning milk. She's changed shoe sizes and pants sizes and grown an inch and a pound. Her hair is long, long, long. She walks (runs) everywhere and doesn't want to hold our hands except when something near her is loud. She talks about lots of things and asks a lot of questions and makes a lot of accurate observations. She sings and makes up her own songs. She laughs and makes up her own jokes. She lets us rinse the shampoo right out of her hair with no hesitation, no washcloth, no worries.
In the flash of the last 8 months, she's adapted to a lot of changes, learned how to write her name and added a million words to her speech. She dresses herself daily in a minimum of two different dresses. She even gets the buckle part right on her shoes ("I put the buckles on the outside, Mama!"). She pretends to sleep during naptime, but plays with her trains instead. She still doesn't eat much meat besides chicken, calamari and hamburgers, and she still loves sweet tea. She loves hotels and had a great time at Disney World.
In a few short weeks, she'll officially be a big sister to her very own little sister. She wants to name her 'donut' or 'fountain' or 'cloud'. She wants to teach her how to dig in the sand and how to walk and how to stand on one foot. She doesn't want her baby sister to sit in her chair or play with her trains or wear her new dresses. But she does want her baby sister to sleep in her bed.
As we-the-family near the day when our three becomes four, Mama still can't quite believe her tiny baby adorable is so grown. It did fly. It really, really did.