My dear sweet girl who loves ballet (maybe I will finally get a girl who sticks with it) turned four in January. Surprisingly, this was the hardest kid birthday for me to reckon with. I think, when you have four children, life is so busy that you NEED the older ones to grow up a little bit so they can be more independent. It's not that you want to fast-forward their childhood, it's simply about survival. But now my baby girl is four. I'm not sure I'm okay with that.
I have enjoyed Sophia being three so much. On the eve of her fourth birthday, I slipped into her room and watched her while she slept. I couldn't help but feeling a tinge bit sad. She is my cuddle bug. She is the child who expects nothing and contentedly sits by my side. When a kid is three years old, they take everything that you say as gospel truth. Sophia has these big, trusting blue eyes, that say, "I believe you and I love you and I'm just so happy to be with you right now."
Now she is four. Four is and will be great. But I will always look back at age three with fondness. Sophia, you are a JOY. It's been so great having a three-year-old as sweet as you.