Dear Aisha,

I’ve been searching for some clever words to jot down about your having turned three. But I don’t have many; aside from a little (okay, a lot) more sass, in many ways you’ve remained my sweet pumpkin. Your daily antics still elicit a big belly laugh, and I’m always delighted upon discovering yet another new thing that you can do. 

the build up

Two-leading-to-three has been a good and busy year for you, my girl; I do wish that I’d been more diligent in keeping track of your progress, but I realize that I wanted to spend more time just enjoying you as opposed to follwing you around and noting your accomplishments as though you are a creature on the Discovery Channel. Besides, you’ve decided that you don’t like having your picture taken anymore (and you’re rather vocal about it, really, putting a hand up over your face and yelling, “Tahp. TAHP! Tahp it!” like a pint-sized Mariah Carey scolding an annoying paparazzo.)

in and out

After many months of cajoling and using your fingers, you have mastered the art of utensils, and your fork skills are on-point. You can drink from a cup by herself, although you’ve got a charming tendency to dump the contents when you’ve had enough, as opposed to just placing the cup on the table like any sane, rational person would. 😀

We have had some potty success. You’re not yet fully trained, but you know that after we wake up and before we have a bath, some s(h)it needs to happen. Apparently you’ve tinkled more than a few times at daycare and once left me a big gift here at home 💩  (gee, thanks) but mostly you just use the potty as a waiting chair while I draw your bath.

the night routine

And do you ever love your baths (I was the opposite; whose child are you?) so much so that you refuse to go to sleep without having one, and will sulk (with arms crossed, chin to chest, corners of mouth turned downward and lots of huffing – so cute! So hard not to laugh) if you don’t get a full tub experience before bed.

You’re still a sound sleeper and I’m so happy about that. You’re still an early riser and I’m so happy about that.👈🏾  That was sarcasm. It’s a language you understand, as you’ve started to develop your own brand of snark. You’re three! You’re an overachiever! Definitely my child. 😀

do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?

While you’re pulling aces in comprehension, clear speech is something that eludes you, Aisha. The thing is, every once in a while, you’ll drop a phrase or particularly difficult word as clear as day – never to repeat it again. Last week I had two Sandra Boyton books on my desk – Hippos Go Berserk! and Oh My Oh My Oh Dinosaurs! remember?

You pointed to the latter, and said, “dinosaurs!” (much like George from Peppa Pig) as if you’d been uttering the word forever. When I asked you to repeat it, it came out sounding more like, daboeioafdiafiosiosors!  And then you clammed up after my third request. So stubborn! So my child! Karma is a bi– Never mind. You’ll meet her one day.

It must be noted that after two years of addressing everyone else properly (dada. Granddad. Gramma. Vovò), you have finally started calling me Mama. Or Mami. Or Mommy. Which is super sweet. But mostly, you just refer to me as, “hey!”

moving right along

Gosh, you’re quick. You’re getting pretty good at running (and thankfully not a bolter – yet), but like most kids with Down Syndrome, you have some issues with hypermobility, particularly in your hips. You don’t quite run or walk as much as you do waddle. It’s cute now, but it won’t be when you’re 12, so your gait still needs work.

Unfortunately, when you started daycare, your physio appointments stopped (the idea being that you’d gain mobility as you started running with the hooligans your classmates). I’d like to get you a few more sessions withe Miss Jacqueline to see if we can get you using your right leg more (you’re a lefty, just like mama) and strengthen your forward range of motion.

However, you’re now an expert stair climber! You can get up and down without assistance – even though your technique on descent leaves me clutching my chest. But hey, you’ve taken the solo trip down our staircase a number of times now without incident, so, yay!

otherwise…

You’re a healthy little girl. You are getting bigger and stronger by the day. You are still the smallest kid in your class, but you’re the most charming kid in school. You are popular and protected and have many little admirers. Right now your favourite is Kai. I’ve met his mamí and papí. They’re nice people. His abuela is lovely. You have good taste, and I approve.

Oh, my dearest Bean. I could go on and on about all of the wonderful things you’ve accomplished up until this point, but the hour grows late. Mama hasn’t been working – or writing these past few weeks, and I don’t put together a blog post the way I used to…even if the subject matter is you, my favourite topic in the whole world. Besides shoes. And thrifting.

I love you more today than I ever thought possible. When I found out I was having a baby, I thought for sure I was having/wanted a little boy. And now that you’re here, I can’t imagine not having you, just as you are.

Here’s to three, kiddo.

Looking forward to watching you rock it.

I love you very, very much.

(PS – Okay, so I lied. I found more than a few funny things to say about Your Threeness. Thanks for the material, babe. 👄 )