This morning at approximately 12:38am my precious baby girl turned three years old. Like most parents, my husband and I enjoy reminiscing about that perfect day when baby Lia came into our lives. Oh wait, did I say perfect?! Crying, screaming, cursing, bleeding…maybe not so perfect. But damn, she was the most beautiful baby girl I had ever laid eyes on. Still is.
While I have cherished (almost) every stage of Lia’s three years, I don’t relate to those parents who struggle to accept the reality that their babies grow more independent with each passing day. In fact, I welcome the independence. When we had finally chosen a name for our unborn baby girl, we considered three spellings: Leah, Lea, and Lia. Our online research revealed that the first two had meanings associated with weary and dependent. The latter meant bringer of good news. Not much deliberation needed after that little discovery! Lia was the clear winner and this girl could never be mistaken for either weary or dependent! It was an added bonus that Lia was the Italian spelling for my favorite name and a special tribute to my ancestry.
Yes, there are certainly times when I love a good snuggle in the glider singing “You are my Sunshine” to this baby girl of mine. But better yet, I love when she sings it right back to me. Or she sings new songs that she learned at childcare. Or she tells me that I’m her very best friend. Or she puts her jacket on without my help. Or she blows her nose. Or she climbs up to the table without a boost. Or she picks up her toys. Or she makes a new friend. Or she tinkles in the toilet. Or she eats a cheeseburger instead of a cheese sandwich. Or she slips on her own shoes. Or she slips on my shoes. Or she pedals her tricycle. Or she washes her hands. Or she turns off her bedroom light. Or she pumps her legs on the swings. Or she tells me that her tummy hurts rather than making me guess. Or she puts her dirty clothes down the laundry chute. Or she calls me pretty. Or she does a perfect forward roll in tumbling class. Or she prefers walking to being carried. Or she tells her brother that Olivia is better than Sponge Bob. Or she kisses her dolls goodnight. Or my all-time personal favorite…she says, “I love you mommy!”
Happy Birthday to my one and only baby girl. May you grow big and strong, but always need your mommy for the most important days and moments in your life.