My “baby” turned 3 yesterday.  I don’t think I handled it very well.  I layed in her bed with her Wednesday night and couldn’t stop crying.  There’s something so very sad and exciting about 3.  It seems so old.  I was fine with 1.  I was fine with 2.  But I’m having a hard time with 3.  She’s just so grown up these days (for example, she requested coffee this morning) and as fast as these past 3 years have gone, I know the next 3 will go even faster; and by that point, she’ll be in kindergarten.  We celebrated last night with a party at a local indoor bounce house place and we had a great time.  Hubs is off today, so we’ll spend the rest of today and the weekend hanging out, just the 3 of us.  I think we’ll visit the Stockyards this afternoon and we’re tossing around the idea of the Children’s Aquarium tomorrow.  We’re starting to feel the pressure to spend as much time, just the 3 of us, as we can.  Happy 3rd Birthday to my sweet little girl.  You’ve held so many surprises for me over the past 3 years, I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

Now I’ll spend the next several days contemplating how this:

A- birth

turned into this:

A - 3