Happy Birthday Letter

Dear Rosemary,

Today you are 3. When you went to bed last night, you were very excited that you would wake up a whole new number. After you fell asleep, I told your daddy what a big deal 3 seems like.



At 1 and 2 you didn’t really care about your birthday, didn’t care about cake or presents, didn’t care that a loud, boisterous song was being sung to you. At 1 and 2 you were still a terrible sleeper and I was still going through life in a big haze of exhaustion. At 3 presents and cake are huge, and I just got an even 8 hours of sleep.



In the last year, we have experienced so much change and you have been such a good sport through it all. Your daddy and I have both gone through job changes, you and I have lived apart from your daddy, we’ve moved far away from all your friends and family; and through it all you have been a very stable, mature little girl.



These days you and I are together a lot, and we’re having fun. In some ways you are my best friend in this strange new town and strange new house where we know very few other people. We play together, giggle together, shop and drink coffee together (you drink water and pretend it’s coffee) – you are good company, Rosemary. I mean that.



You make good conversation. I have to control my doting parent desires here, but I sincerely believe your verbal skills are advanced. You speak surprisingly complete sentences. At times, your grammar is more correct than my own. You are funny, you tell good jokes, and you make me laugh. You also realize when something stops being funny and generally give up on the matter.



This, I believe, is why your coordination is a little lacking. A kid can only grow in so many ways at one time. You still waste a lot of energy when you run. You enjoy riding your bike, but generally end up turning in circles because you’re so busy looking to your left and your right.

Music is a big deal to you these days. The weather has been warmer and you have been asking for the car windows to be down and the music to be loud, which is so funny to me. I’m happy to oblige, but not really certain how you know to like that sort of thing. I do not blast music, you didn’t learn this from me. You are a big fan of the banjo, violin, trumpet, and drums. Those are the instruments you pretend to play and you can even pick their sounds out of songs.



You are also really learning to play by yourself and with other kids. Your imagination is growing by leaps and bounds. You make trains drive through tunnels, your Little People and Polly Pockets have extensive conversations together, you play hide and seek (if not a little awkwardly and always giving your spot away).

You do all those things that little kids do. And that’s the thing that gets me. Somehow you stopped being a baby. Entirely. Sometimes you ask me to hold you like a baby and I can barely fit you in my arms. You are Rosemary June, 3-years-old, and not turning back. And I’m okay with that. This life we’re living is a good one and I feel incredibly blessed to have you along for the ride.

I love you to the moon and back.
Mommy