My daughter always seems ready to embrace the next stage in life long before I am. She was on the go before I was ready for her to crawl. She was walking before I had good shoes for her little feet. She climbed out of the cot before we had bought a single bed for her to move to. You get the idea. Today my little munchkin turned three. She’s ready. I’m not.
Three is the end of being a toddler. I just got used to saying I have a baby and a toddler. What do I have now? She’s not a kid yet. She’s still little. Three is still little! She still needs help with a knife and fork. She still needs help climbing out of the bathtub. She still needs someone to do up her buttons, brush her teeth and tie her pigtails. She’s still little!!!
I guess if she’s ok with being somewhere between a toddler and a kid, I should be ok with that too. Really it’s a special time, because she’s just big enough to be independent, and just little enough to still need her Mummy. And I have a feeling this phase won’t last long. I only have the rest of this year with her at home before she’ll be off to kindy!
So here’s to Little Miss Three: my big little Mummy’s girl. There’s a part of me that hopes she never completely grows up.