Two days ago, you turned 3 years old. THREE! THREE! THREE!
You've been telling everyone about this upcoming date for quite some time now. Whenever someone would ask your name you would respond: "I'm Helen. I'm 2. Soon I'll be 3. When I turn 3, I'm going to give up my bottle and drink milk from my pink cat cup." which, to say the least, is a lot more information than they were looking for. You held steadfast to this claim that you would go through with the deal of giving your bottle up at 3 until October 11 after dinner. It was at this point that you stated unequivocally that you would continue to drink your milk from a bottle and that you would not use your pink cat cup for milk.
I feel for you, Helen. And I'm only giving this trial period of using a cup for milk for a week. You see, the day after your birthday party (held a week ago), you came down from bed and you looked very sad. You asked me "am I 3?" and I knew right away what you were really asking was whether or not you could have your morning bottle - a bottle that has started your day every day since you stopped nursing, and lots of days before then when you were only nursing at night. You were visibly relieved when I told you that in fact you were not yet 3. That 3 was about a week away.
The way I see it, there's no reason for you to have the bottle. You like milk just fine, and you can drink any other fluid from a cup. But for some reason, like your brother, you just do not like milk from a cup. He was OK with dumping the bottle when he realized he got to use a train cup, and we were hoping the pink cat cup would be similarly appealing to you, but so far, it hasn't tempted you in the least.
But your life hasn't just been about a bottle. Mostly, it's been about RUNNING. FAST! Everywhere you go! It's as if one day, a few weeks ago, you realized you could run and you just haven't slowed down since. You chase after Connor as he rides his bike, you run down the street to greet me, and you can run all over the backyard for a good long time. I'm still waiting for the big nose dive when you trip over your shoes, but so far, you have avoided that fate, and the few times you have fallen, you've managed to catch yourself with your hands.
You had a ball at your party, and changed your clothes no fewer than four times.
You started out wearing the clothes you had selected for the day.
Then Tiny, our au pair, gave you the most perfect pink cat dress, which needed to be worn immediately.
And then you decided you needed to wear your fancy party dress.
You rounded out the day with a costume that Miss Ellen gave you.
Your grandparents came for the party, which was a real treat. Not only do they come bearing presents, but they are willing to play Zingo with you hundreds of times in a row. They might have finally quenched your thirst for this exciting game because I don't believe you've insisted I play it once since their departure. I owe them a lot of thanks for this.
This month, a friend had a pony party, and that was simply fantastic. What's even more fantastic is that the other children seemed more interested in the small petting zoo that came with the pony, which meant you could have about 20 consecutive rides. You loved it.
You are turning back into a mama's girl, practically weeping if someone gets between us at times. Your dad always tells you that "no one likes a mama's girl" and I always say "I do!".
You impress and delight people wherever you go. I receive emails regularly after people see you about what an incredible child you are. I agree. You are incredible. You tell me (and others) daily "you're my best friend" and you love to give out kisses. You're still the best hugger in the world, and even though you're stubborn and I will quite possibly lose my marbles over trying to figure out how to get you to drink milk from a cup, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.
Love,
Mommy
Helen really is a delightful child. I don't think I've ever seen her be ornery, now that I think about it. (Psst, Ramona still drinks milk from a bottle 1x per day too !)
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