Last night I asked Savanna, “You are turning three tomorrow. How about you don’t turn three? How about you stay my little baby forever?” She shook her head and said no.

Damn kiddo.

Today, she turned three.

Dear Savanna,

First thing every morning, you come to my side of the bed and whisper in my ear, “Mommy, I want an apple.” Every morning you eat an apple, or grapes, or banana, or blackberries, or whatever fruit we have. Then you’ll eat cereal or oatmeal. Then you’ll have some scrambled eggs, and finish up with some milk. Breakfast is probably your favorite meal of the day.

You love make-up and accessories. If I don’t put some eyeshadow on you when I’m doing mine, all hell breaks loose. And I remember your death-grip on the mannequin in the store because you had to have those necklace and bracelets. You are the girly girl that your grandma always dreamed of having.

Right now you are very much into Frozen. You sing “Let it go” out loud on a regular basis. You come and tell me, “Elsa froze my heart,” and collapse into my arms. You pretend you’re going to kiss me, pull away the last second, and say, “I’m Prince Hans.” You are so into anything related to that movie, that this morning Daddy and I slaved over making you an Elsa cake for your birthday.

You are a tough little nut. When we took you and Josh trick or treating, you climbed up and down stairs of all the houses we visited, block after block. Even when Josh was tired out and asked to go home, you kept trucking on without a word of complaint. If I took you out on foot, I never have to worry about you not being able to walk the distance.

I love how compassionate you are. Every time Josh gets hurt, you rush to him and say, “Are you ok, sweetheart?” And you pat him on the back or on the head. If I stubbed my toe or something, you’ll run to me and smother me with kisses.

You will try to do something by yourself without asking for help, get frustrated, and end up in tears. We’ve been constantly talking about using your words and ask for help. Lately we’ve seen some great improvements, where you would ask for help to zip up a jacket, or take off your helmet, or get a toy beyond your reach, then you would smile and say proudly, “I used my words!” Yes you did, baby, and I’m so proud of you.

You are not always the most expressive, except for when it counts. One time I came home after being away a whole week for work, you threw your arms around my neck, buried your face on my shoulder, and just chanted, “Mommy, mommy, mommy…” for a long while. When I put you to bed at night, sometimes I lay down next to you on your bed, and you always puts one arm around me and say, “Mommy, don’t go. I love you.” I am completely defenceless when you do that.

This summer we put you in swimming classes, but you didn’t like it. But even though you don’t enjoy swimming, I know you tried hard and endured it enough to finish the classes. I would never expect you to excel at everything, or enjoy everything. I want you to know that I am so proud of how hard you tried.

I see so much of myself in you, that often I have to remind myself that you are your own person. I love watching you play, explore the world around you, and grow into the little kid I have come to respect. Even though you are petite and still fit in 2T clothes, your personality is larger than life.

You have changed my life from the moment you came out of my belly. I am so thrilled you are my daughter, and I cannot imagine you being anything other than exactly who you are today. Happy birthday, my girl.

Love,

Mommy