She's...3?

My daughter, my sweet baby girl, is 3 years old. Her Auntie took her out for a birthday lunch and sent me a photo of them eating hummus. I burst into tears at work and demanded of one of the billers, "How old does this child look?!?" Bewildered, she answered 2 or 3. To me, she looked 15.

On the day of her actual birthday, I got up and made her strawberry pancakes per her request. She looked around and asked where her puppy was. Apparently I'd missed the memo that on one's 3rd birthday, one was automatically presented with a puppy. We had a quiet day at home playing, snuggling, and talking. Her grandpa came over after her nap and played some more. He took her to Target to get her a brand new "fedder peelo" (feather pillow). She's been asking for one for ages. We grilled burgers for dinner, and Lilah got a nice piece of grilled salmon (also her request). We watched the Muppets with Grandpa, and Erin and I made cake pops after she went to bed. It was a calm day, but very enjoyable. It made the transition easier on me. She'd moved from toddler to preschooler before my very eyes.

The day of her party, I dressed her in the black and white dress with polka dots and pink trim that just screamed "Lilah Rose" when I first saw it. I thought back to the day she was born as I brushed her long, blonde hair and weaved it back into a little crown. She was so little. Even after going through labor and delivery, she still blinked up at me with those big, blueberry eyes so full of peace and tranquility. And now she was 3. A little lady, no longer a baby. I didn't know how I'd cope.

Her party was lovely. She was so happy to have family and friends there to celebrate her special day. She loved her cake and gifts and spent most of the time running round barefoot in the yard with her cousins and friend Anya. There was minimal cleanup, hardly any stress (other than the chaos surrounding opening presents), and an overall great day. I felt blessed to have people in our lives so willing to celebrate the life of my child.

Her 3 year physical with Dr Kolin was yesterday. She was 2.75 inches taller and 1.25 pounds heavier than her last visit 6 months before. I was amazed. The child had grown that much in half a year? Where had I been? Why had I been such a jerk, yelling at her every other day for growing out her her pants and shoes? My increasing grocery bills and never-ending shortage of fruit and coconut milk suddenly seemed justified.

Other than a slight duck-walk to compensate for flat feet, her physical was perfect. Dr Kolin was most concerned with making sure we paid close attention to her education, since she was "precocious" and extremely advanced in her language and social skills. She showed some concern over us living in the Hazel Park school district, but we assured her we'd be very involved in her education and were willing to transport her to whatever school district could best meet her needs. Dano acknowledged we would probably meet with some opposition, but that we had discussed at length the possibility of home-schooling Lilah Rose during her middle school years. Dr Kolin was surprisingly supportive, saying she thought middle schools shouldn't be co-ed. "As long as she's actually taught, I think it's a good idea. The only thing you learn in middle school is how to study and use your time wisely." I wasn't expecting any support for this tentative idea of ours. I was pleasantly surprised. When we (mostly I) expressed concern about her not knowing her shapes, letters, colors, etc. Dr Kolin shrugged it off and thought her brain was processing things at a higher level than green squares. Every parent thinks their child is exceptional. It was nice to hear an educated medical professional agree that Lilah Rose Marie had big things on her horizon as long as we provided her with the opportunities she needed.

With every year, I love her more. She grows more into a wonderful little person. The further away from a tiny, helpless baby she gets, the more of the"Lilah" comes out. I think of how she's going to be at 10, 15, 20, 30. It scares and excites me. I know she'll be wonderful. I know it will be challenging. Even so, I can't wait.