Dear Amelia,

Last week you turned three. When I woke you up on your birthday and whispered in your ear "Happy birthday", you immediately wanted to know where your cake was and when you friends where coming over. Also you told me that you were a bumblebee. "Today is my birthday and I am a bumblebee". Apparently you have gotten your birthday confused with Halloween, because on Halloween you will be a bee.

For me it is hard to believe that you have only been a part of our lives for three short years. It seems as if you have always been here with your wide open smile and chubby hands. At my ultra sound when the technician announced that you were a girl I was uncertain how I would manage after all the dirt, toy cars, and star wars toys I had been surrounded by during the pervious 4 years. "Is it really a girl?" I asked skeptically.

You have developed into the most perfect balance of tom boy and girly girly I have yet to encounter. You are drawn to pretty things and baby dolls but prefer princess Leia to any of the Disney princesses. You choose Thomas the train over strawberry shortcake, and would rather pour tea for the boy's plush yoda and pokemon toys over your own pink and purple stuffed bears. I adore that about you. I have yet to meet another person so intent on being adored. You don't just expect the adoration of those around you, you demand it. After I help you get dressed in the morning you pull at the legs of your brother's pants and shout " look at my dress, look at my shoes, isn't my hair pretty?" They know better then to disagree.

I think your brothers adore you most of all. The other day you ran into the edge of the table and your lip bleed a little. Your brothers went into panic mode. They were much more upset over the whole incident then you were. Jacob was a basket case, he actually cried because he thought you were severely injured. Andrew hugged you so tight I was afraid he might squeeze the very life out of you. It took much convincing for the boys to take my word for it that we did not need to take you to the hospital.

Lately you have been very extreme in all that you do. There is no middle emotion when it comes to you. You are either overjoyed or in the pits of utter despair. When you sing you don't just sing you belt out your words at almost a shriek and shake your little booty will moving your fists. It's quite a spectacle. I am afraid that you may have my rhythm. You will shout "LET"S SING THE ABC"S!!!" I may be losing a portion of my hearing due to all your enthusiasm. When you first wake up in the morning, you waddle down to the kitchen and shout "I am awake!" while throwing your arms up in the air as if you had just returned from the longest journey of your very short life. A few weeks ago I brought you home a plastic play kitchen. Your reaction was so intense that one would think It was solid gold and lined with diamonds. You obsessively play with it everyday and greet it as if it is a member of the family. For awhile you were calling your kitchen your birthday. You would grab me by the wrist and say "mom, let's go play with my birthday." I think there is still much confusion over what exactly a birthday is.

As we head into the three's with you I hope you remain the little firecracker that you have always been. I am expecting you to keep it interesting. I am looking forward to more adventures, more loud rendentions of Old McDonald, and baking hundreds of imaginary cookies on your pretend kitchen. I couldn't be more happy or proud to have you as a daughter. I love you!

Love,

Mom