35 months old

Taylor turned 35-months old last week, and I'm having a really hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my little girl is turning three in just a few short weeks. I guess you could call it denial. Or pure terror. Because everyone I know who has a three year old has decidedly wanted to share with me in the past weeks that they think the Threes are way worse then the Twos. And that somehow, after her birthday next month, a switch is going to flip within my precious Princess and she's gonna turn from a cute, cuddly kiddo to a total nightmare of a child. Thanks, folks. That's EXACTLY what a mother who is a month away from giving birth wants to hear. Why don't you just tell me how bad my hair looks too? Oh, and you forgot to mention my cankles and the super-sexy waddle I'm rocking right now.

But, like most delusional parents, I'm holding out hope that Taylor will be the exception to this gruesome-three year old protocol. She HAS to be. She doesn't have a choice in the matter. Kind of like how she'll be required to follow the concrete-rules Chris established about how she won't be able to date until she's twenty and how all shorts and skirts must extend past her fingertips when her arms are at her sides. Sorry, Honey. Not only will you be forbidden to have anymore unwarranted emotional breakdowns during your toddler years, but your Dad's gonna make you dress like a nun once you reach puberty.

And in addition to almost turning three, Miss T is starting to look like such a big kid now too. And I know that this hugeness will be exemplified once Baby Amys comes home, and how she will look like a giant next to a newborn. When Libba was visiting last month, she took a ton of pictures. Some of which you are enjoying with this post. And when she was editing her photos, she remarked that looking at a few of them made her heart ache because she was able to see what Taylor was going to look like as an adult. That all of that fantastic baby-chub is melting off her face and body, and she's starting to look like a real person and not just a squishy baby who once boasted the most smoochable cheeks in the universe.

And even though she's not a baby anymore, we are still having a hard time detaching ourselves from a few baby-things in our house. Namely the pacifiers and pull-ups. We are making progress on both fronts, but with the serious transitions our house will be undertaking in the next few months, anything that brings comfort and security to Taylor isn't at the top of my list to get rid of. So, all I can say is, We'll get there eventually. And I am confident that by the time the end of summer rolls around, both of those items will belong strictly to Baby.

And in addition to the final stages of de-babying Taylor the toddler, we finally enrolled her in a preschool program starting in the fall. And I say finally because right now she is pretty much the only one of her little friends that isn't in any sort of program, and she keeps saying that she really wants to go to school like her buddies do. So with Baby coming, we thought it was the perfect time to start her in a program that she could go to a few mornings a week so she could have some fun with her friends and also have something that is just hers. And it will also allow me to have some one-on-one time with Baby. And while I knew this day would be coming, I can already tell you that I am going to be an emotional wreck the first morning I drop her off. Ugh. It gives me heartburn just thinking about it.

So Taylor is growing up in leaps and bounds, and she is still talking up a storm and asking a zillion questions a day. And while I am absolutely thrilled to have such a bright, inquisitive daughter, sometimes the constant bombardment for information just becomes exhausting. Which I'm sure has a lot to do with the fact that I'm carrying a six-pound fetus in my belly and haven't been able to get a comfortable night's sleep in the past two weeks. So when my daughter looks at me and asks for the millionth time why ballerinas wear leg warmers, my response might be delayed because it's really hard to talk while I'm yawning.

And while I know the tossing and turning all night is the Universe's way of getting me ready for the around-the-clock feedings that start next month, I also feel like it's prepping me to find ways to stay both calm and collected while being both sleep deprived and the mother of the world's most questioning toddler. Because it's going to be really hard. And I'm sure there are going to be times that I get snappy with her because I'm so tired and drained that my emotions will get the best of me. And just the thought of that breaks my heart a little bit. Because she is such a good girl, and for as long as I live all I want her to know is how much I adore her and how wonderful I think she is. And I especially need her to know that after Baby comes next month, and I won't always be able to give her my undivided attention. She will always be my precious girl. And I love her so much.