On your third birthday...

Dear Punky,

Three years ago today, I held you in my arms for the very first time.  I watched as your bottom lip pooched out-a trait I later learned you did when you were scared-and you took a breath for the first time.  I watched your father, overwhelmed with emotions, tear up and look at me with a helpless look in his eyes.  We were so smitten, so in love and so incredibly blessed to have you finally make us a family.

Even now, as you trudge your way into the study where I sit, rubbing your sleepy eyes and your hair all askew, I fall in love with you all over again.

This year was a big year for you:  You learned to go potty all the time but you still wear diapers at night.  You learned to mostly dress yourself, save the occasional backwards shirt or wrong-footed shoe.  You grew from a size 2T to half way between a 3T and a 4T.  You discovered Disney Princess movies, dress up, and that you liked to brush Mommy's hair.

By the time you're old enough to read this, you'll probably be rolling your eyes at the story, but you really are our little miracle.  For you see, three years passed with many prayers, many tears and many months without you.  My heart was empty until I found out you were growing inside of me, only I didn't know it.  The first beat of your heart filled me with life.

Everything about you, from your bright blue eyes to your baby nose to your poochy (Griffin) lips, all the way down to your fat little toes (you get those from Nana by the way) creates a peace within me that's unsurpassed by worldly things.  True joy, I've found lies within a single giggle, a hug, or a whispered I love you.  

You're so smart.  I know, all mom's say that, but you are.  You're only 3 and you speak better English than me, could argue with the best of them (although you haven't figured out I always win) and sing songs with an angel's voice.  You love listening to my Twilight soundtrack, Gavin Rossdale and your "New CD" even though you've had it for a year and a half - which could be any CD that isn't mine or your Daddy's - your Bible CD, your silly songs CD or a baby Einstein CD with classical music.  That voice, that sings your baby dolls to sleep now will one day sing your own children to sleep.  Their lives will be richer because of it.

So tomorrow, as we celebrate your birthday with your very own "Princess Party" with all your princess friends, I'll try not to cry and embarrass you.  I'll try to remember that even though you're only 3, you're always going to be my little girl.  You're always going to be that baby that pooched out her bottom lip and wailed at me.  You're always going to be the little girl who called every flower a "lellow" because Grandma's flowers were yellow.  You'll always be the little girl who stole my heart and now carries it safely tucked away in your princess purse, next to the books and baby doll things you love.

Quite simply, I'm always going to be yours.

I love you Punky,

Mommy