Footloose and Fancy Three

In the tradition of the great America humorist, Jeff Foxworthy, you know it's your third birthday when...

- you decide to hug a pile of presents

- you have a terrible stomach bug all day but rally to open presents so that you don't disappoint your audience

- you announce that you think it's time for your brother to go to bed (but I'm pretty sure it's only because you don't want him playing with your loot)

- you ask for cake the morning after your third birthday

Nobody should be sick on his or her birthday but that's what happened yesterday. Molly was so un-Molly-like yesterday (including taking a four hour nap that I had to wake her up from to go get the babysitter) it made me very sad for her. In the morning, she had even asked to wait for a day for her cake and presents (although that was clearly a short-lived sentiment). Nonetheless, today, she appears back to her spunky, lively, birthday-singing self. 

Just who is Molly right now? She's your typical three year old who wants to do EVERYTHING by herself... don't suggest helping her get dressed, go anywhere near the potty with her, put her shoes on, etc. All this to say that we don't hustle out the door very often. She likes parties, taking care of her babies, riding bikes (and her new scooter), playing pretend games, arts and crafts (hallelujah!!), wearing pajamas at all hours of the day, the moon and stars, anything she can dress up (luckily, she hasn't discovered Jack yet), building tall towers, climbing as high as she possibly can and then hanging/jumping/sliding down (again, no assistance needed). She's funny, likes to tell jokes, pretends that her nose can talk, often will politely interrupt with "mom, mom, mom, I have a question, please" or "hey, will you look at me?". She likes to make Jack laugh (well, anyone really but especially Jack) and likes to point out when someone else is doing something wrong. She's easily frustrated when she reaches a sticking point and can throw down one big, loud, noisy fuss card but she's getting better and better at managing her emotions and limits. She's helpful in the kitchen and interested in what I'm doing but her attention span for cooking or baking real food is still short (except when things need to be tested). She has wild and crazy hair that I'm only marginally successful at taming, she still (usually) happily naps, and needs awhile to wind herself down in the evenings before she's ready for bed. She likes swimming, soccer, running, some weird badminton/balloon game, t-ball, running, skating, running... She still eats mostly everything although is becoming somewhat more choosy in her old age. She's curious, oh lord is she curious. Nothing escapes her sticky fingers so it's always interesting to take her into stores, the dentist, or the doctor. No, honestly, it's very stressful. She'd love, for instance to come to the hair salon with me but there's not a snowball's chance in hell that I'm going to let her loose in a place with water, chemicals, sharp objects, unpaid for merchandise and other people while I'm somewhat trapped in a chair and can't turn my head quickly. Her curiosity is both my favorite thing about her and what may send me to an early grave. She's really so many, many things but most of all, she's still a peanut who, when sick, likes to be picked up and held and snuggled and let's us know that, after all, she doesn't want to do everything by herself.