It takes three to make a child

And now you are and I am and we're 

a mystery which will never happen again, 

 a miracle which has never happened before.

Sweet Bee. One foggy morning, just as the sun was coming up, your father held my hand and I roared you into the world with everything I had in me - just like that. So simple and intricate at the same time, and I heard you cry and held you close. I nourished you with love and milk and kisses and songs and everything I had in me - just like that, and we were more like one person than two. I brought you home and showed you the world and rocked you and sat with you and woke up with you and nursed you and struggled and loved you with everything I had in me - and just like that, it was three years ago.

Three years old and you still like to cuddle through naps. All sprawled out. Somehow you are this tiny person who is wearing real jeans, with real belt loops, and real boots, with real soles, and your own personality and aspirations and somehow you fit neatly into my womb and then neatly into my arms and neatly at my breasts. You are over three feet tall. No more inches, real feet. You can ride roller coasters and run through the grass and jump off of tree stumps and paint beautiful masterpieces and carry a puppy that weighs more than twice what you used to weigh. I have no idea how many weeks old you are, or when we stopped counting in weeks. This crazy, spirited, full of life and imagination tiny little person you have become is three years old. Real years. 

You are the best person I know, my three year old Bee. Just hands down. You can run faster, jump higher, sing louder, dance better, laugh most, climb more, and love deeper than anyone I know! You are an adventurer with a brave heart and bold spirit. You are curious and strong. You are a thrill seeker and a true explorer with a thirst for knowledge and an inquisitive nature. You are fierce, my fighter who can't be tamed. You are gentle, my caring soul with a love that can't be worn.

We've had three years now. Full of wonder, growth, accomplishments, milestones, challenges. It is incredible - this life with you that I never expected and wouldn't trade for anything. I know that I've borrowed you from the bigger world you'll go into and I know that these days are so, heartwrenchingly, enchantingly fleeting and I will never forget to enjoy the little things.

So, we swing in the backyard. We dance together in the grocery store. We nurse in our cozy chair. We play in the woods. We go on leaf hunts. We count stones. We feed ducks. We walk on the beach. We collect sea shells. We roam. We pick flowers. We sing on the trolley. We swim in the sea. We lay in the grass. We dig in the mud. We stomp in the rain. We twirl through the hallway. We climb up trees. We read books. We tell stories. We make memories. 

Most of all, we plant your roots, and we grow your wings. I love you, my sweet, three year old, Bee.