Three.
It’s just a number.
But it’s a great age.
It’s an age of exploration…
Imagination.
Communication.
And expression.
Oh yeah…and tantrums.
But also an age of innocence, self expression and no fear.
Three wears three pairs of underwear on a whim because of the love of the characters on them.
Three carries a blanket with no shame because it’s comforting.
And three sports a turtle shell and no shirt because she can.
Three is an age that loves our dogs to the point where the dogs need a break.
Three is a number that doesn’t care about brushed hair, a clean face, or non-sticky fingers.
Three says what comes to her mind, declares she’s pretty (I hope she never stops thinking that) and says to her mommy, “You are beautiful“…
Nothing ever said to me in my life has ever stopped me in my tracks as fast as that did since it takes on a different meaning when it comes from someone so unknowing of the world around them.
Three is an age of rough days.
But more often good days.
Three is an age of repeating things heard (boy are there a lot of words I need to stop saying!).
Three years sings with no shame.
Three says some pretty funny things.
Three years old is a wonderful age.
Three years old flies by.
Three years old.
Three years.
Three.
I love you Mabel.
Beautiful sentiments. Love your post!