Three's Company

BigM turned 3 last Friday. We began the celebration with a party at her school on Thursday. She cried like a baby when I got there and said she didn't want to eat the super awesome beautiful Ice Cream Cone cupcakes I slaved over for hours for her little three year old friends. Someday she will appreciate them, maybe. (Maybe when she is making cupcakes for her own mouse's bday party? That's when I tend to appreciate my mom the most.) She bawled and said she wanted to go home. (I told her, It's your party and you can cry if you want to. Anyone surprised?)

On her actual birthday, we went to our old house to get a load of junk (I mean, stuff to crowd my basement) so she got to see Sassy and get a new sticker book. We came home and went to Chick-fil-a (her choice, and no, she did not get a #4) for dinner. Playing on the playground trumped an Ice Dream cone, but a random lady in the kids area gave her a dollar just because she is so cute. (Yes, she is so cute.) For a second I thought she was passing out candy and I almost yelled out, "Stranger Danger!" Luckily I held my tongue and I profited a little for it.

Fast forward to yesterday, her actual birthday party. At her request, we had a ballerina party. For the last nine months, I have been listening to the description of her party- "I'm doing to hab a pee-ada [pinata, for those who don't speak BigM] and iss goin to be siwver wif a widdle bit of bwue and orange on it, shaped wike a square. And I want to hab my party at Lolli and Pop's house."

Ten days before the party, she tells me in the car she wants to have a ballerina party. (Good thing I was a slacker and hadn't mailed out the invites yet.) And that greatly limited our guest list, since our only friends here are boys. She still doesn't understand why they wouldn't want to come to a ballerina party but hey, it made it easy on me to have a family only party.

The highlight of the afternoon was not the elaborately decorated table set for tea, or the fabulous home made flower birthday cake (which actually did not taste very fabulous, but it did look good...) no, the afternoon could not get better after BigM donned not one, but at least three of her brand new dress up outfits, complete with lace up shoes, tiara, feathered purse, 6 bracelets, a headband and puffy arm thingies- did I forget to mention the fairy wings?

Imagine that (if your brain doesn't already hurt) swaying in time to her brand new karyoke wiperphone [microphone, what would you do without the english subtitles?] singing "Twinkle Twinkle Widdle Tar" while the wiperphone blared a snippet from "Bippity Boppity Boo." Absolutely priceless. (Laura, I promise I will post pics if I can figure out how to do it. If ever there was a time, this is it.)

Am I allowed to be torn? Part of me is so proud of her growing up into such a precious little girl (ok, big girl...) and the other part can't believe she's so big. A little over three years ago, I distinctly remember being pregnant with her and thinking, "I cannot believe after dental school is over, we will leave with a three year old." I feel like that was yesterday and forever ago all at the same time. I get so tickled for her when she accomplishes new feats, like today, when she said, "Mama, is not 'Mo-ma Share, is it? It goes, do your share, right?'" and then she sang the Clean up Song with the right words (repeatedly.) Yet, those childish interpretations are what make the days of poopy diapers and endless whining worth it.

Although, I had to smile confidently that she's not growing up too fast when she sang "John Brown's baby had a [pause: muscial "dah-dah"] punishment." No amount of correction could convince her that poor baby has a cold. Upon his chest.

Whew, I can hang on to that one for a few more months.