Sweet Elizabeth,

As you’ve come to learn, we love a good celebration in our home.  We’ve celebrated “first time we saw your beautiful face” day and “gotcha day” and “gotcha home day”, and today we just celebrate you.  Because you, sweet girl, are three!  A big “fee” year old who revolts daily when I affectionately call you “baby girl”, insisting that “I NOT a baby anymore.  I a big girl.”  Spoiler alert: you’ll always be my baby girl.  K?  K.

Elizabeth, you are an absolute joy.  You’re kind and affectionate and deeply compassionate.  When I stub my toe/slice my finger on a paring knife/step on stray Legos (all of which inevitably happen on a daily basis), you’ll quickly run to my side, pat me on the back, and lavish me with hugs and kisses.  “You hurt, mommy?  You be okay.  I fix you up.  I a doctor,” you’ll say.  You’re dead set on wanting to be a doctor when you grow up, and I will not be one bit surprised when this happens.  And you, my girl, will be the best, most compassionate doctor around.

You’re a mama’s girl through and through, though you can be heard asking about your daddy’s whereabouts all day while he’s at work.  Carson is one of  your biggest fans, and you just smile and take it in while he oohs and ahhs over you.  “Elizabeth, you’re sooo cute!  I’m sooo happy you’re my sister!  Your hair is so prettty!” he’ll croon.  Oh and your relationship with Mary Grace?  You two are nearly inseparable.  You have become quite her little protege, mimicking her every move and echoing her every expression.  Sometimes it’s endearing; other times, I start hyperventilating at the thought of the Dynamic Duo collaborating together as teenagers.

You love to sing and dance and jump.  Yes, jump.  You can be seen hopping through life and jumping off of any high surface you can find.  You’re also crazy strong, climbing everything in sight and treating your crib as your personal jungle gym.  It’s cute… but mostly terrifying.

You love to ride your tricycle, scooter, and anything-else-that-goes.  You love Doc McStuffins, Elmo, and Frozen.  You love to play doctor and can go through a box of bandaids in minutes.  You love to eat all things except vegetables.  Even without the veggies, you’re growing crazyfast as evidenced by the fact that you recently outgrew a new pair of shoes in one month.  One. month.

Most nights at dinner, we go around the table as a family and share the highs and lows of our days.  And nine times out of ten, when asked about the best part of your day, you’ll happily respond, “all of dem.”  That’s just how you roll.  You’re so content.  So full of joy.  And that joy you exude?  It’s infectious.

Elizabeth, we love you to pieces- more than we can even express- and are so excited to celebrate you today.  Happy third birthday, baby girl!!