Three is magic

I realized that we have 33 more evenings of A being 3 (don't worry; this isn't the start of a long series of 33 posts in 33 days). ;) 

Three and thirty three are my favorite numbers. I had A when I was 33, which seemed perfect. So this post is fitting. 

I totally understand that people have strong feelings about three year olds. I've heard it's true that three can be a glimpse into the teen years. I've had many sighs and deep breaths and moments where I literally can't even. 

And yet. 

Three is magical. 

That creative bone that balks at clothes that match also spins the sweetest and funniest stories. 

Those big emotions that cause pindrop waterworks also allow the fierce love that puts her cheek to your face and squeezes your neck until you're dizzy. 

That mouth that cuts with statements like "no one is happy with me; I just want someone to be happy" also heals with "you be my best friend because you're my mommy and I love you."

That independent spirit that runs off in public also is passionate about mastering new tasks "all by my very self."

I hear that four is even better. But I don't even want that now. I just want to soak up all of the three over the next month. I know that while others become nostalgic and longing over newborns, three may always be the age that melts my heart. I won't pretend I will enjoy all my time over the next 33 evenings, but I hope I can have one joyful moment each day and be mindful of all the time that's passing and all the joys ahead. Here's a magical moment from last month.