Happy Birthday, Everly!

Cortlan turned five in January.  And today my baby girl turns three.

Time can slow down now.

I am the first to admit that I am not the best "baby person."  While some of my friends were totally smitten, head-over-heals, couldn't stop staring, completely in love with thier newborns from the moment their wrinkly bodies popped out, I cannot say the same thing happened to me.  Don't get me wrong - I loved my babies and did everything I could do to take care of them and show them my love.  I cuddled, and rocked, and nursed them.  I read to them.  I gave them "belly toots."  I massaged them with lotion.  But with Cortlan, I cried for weeks after I brought him home.  When Everly came, it was she who cried for weeks after I brought her home.

In my opinion, those first months are tough.  There is no positive reinforcement for many weeks; most babies don't even smile until they are nearing two months old.  And as a mom, you have to be able to interpret every cry.  Is she tired? Hungry? Too hot? Too cool?  Is her tummy upset?  Is something poking her?  Is she overstimulated? When you have a colicky baby, it is even worse.

I tried to enjoy the newborn stages because I knew that they wouldn't last forever.  But I think to be more accurate, I would say that I managed through the newborn stages as a sleep-deprived, stressed out feeding machine who celebrated every milestone because it was one step farther from the days of no smiles.

Over the past few years, Everly has gone from a screaming infant to a screaming two-year-old to an amazingly polite, happy, funny, and energetic little girl.  She is still headstrong and stubborn at times.  But she listens to reason and at least processes it.  She is surprisingly athletic and coordinated. She is a smart cookie (or a "fart cookie" if you hear her say it).  On one occasion when we were driving home and she was extremely grumpy and disagreable, I said to her, "You are just going to disagree with everything I say, aren't you?"  She opened her mouth to answer, but quickly realized that there was no answer to that question that would work quite right for her, so she didn't answer at all.  She just glared at me.  Smart cookie.

Everly entertains us.  She sings loudly, "Am I a muuffffiiinnnn or am I a mannnn?" to the Muppet's song, Man or Muppet.  She shakes her bum at us and giggles.  She uses words like, "lame."  She loves to be tickled until she laughs so hard it hurts.  She calls herself a "silly goose."  And she is.  And I love it.

Three years old...old enough to go to the museum without a diaper bag or stroller, but not too old that we don't still hold hands. This age has challenges, too, but it may be one of my favorite stages, from the personality that just spills out constantly to the cutest little three-year-old accent that won't be around for long.  Soon enough, she will not be calling her brother "Tort" anymore and when she calls something "lame" it will be with a different kind of attitude. 

Yes.  Time can slow down now.

Happy Birthday, Everly...I am totally smitten, my little silly goose.