For weeks now, Mimi has been pestering me about painting her nails. (“Already?!” I remember saying to Dr. G., not quite ready to cross the bridge to little girl-dom with her).
But I eventually gave in and told her that on her third birthday I’d paint her nails with special little girl polish (Piggy Paint, in case you’re wondering; thanks to those of you on Facebook for suggesting it!).
You would have thought she won the lottery.
Now if you ask her what she wants for her birthday, or if she’s doing something special to celebrate, she’ll proudly tell you, “Mommy’s gonna paint my nails!”, the same way most little girls will announce they’re getting a new Elsa doll or princess dress.
I love that about her.
I love how she still comes rushing to help me unload the dishwasher and unpack the groceries, something she has done since she was able to walk.
I love how she crawls in bed with us in the morning, cuddling up to me with a sleepy “Momma.”
I love how at nighttime she’ll wrap her arms around my neck and whisper “You’re my best friend ever.”
I love how she prances around in my high heels and wears my bra like a hat.
I love how she loves to sing … and trust me, she sings ALL the time … but it’s no longer just tunes from “Frozen.” She’s also making up her own songs (“I have a dog named Raven Fenway…”).
I love that she is a caretaker, whether it’s taking care of our dog, her dolls, or instinctively running to the freezer for a “boo-boo pack” when one of Buddy’s friends got hurt at our house.
I love that she is obsessed with nightgowns, like a 90-year-old lady.
I love that she still pronounces some words incorrectly — ketch-ketch for ketchup — but I do miss “pankins” (pancakes).
I love that she regularly “talks” to birds, bugs and other creatures. “Who are you talking to, Mimi?” “Oh, just a birdie,” she’ll reply.
I love when she puts on her fairy wings and flies through the house, imagining herself as Tinkerbell or a butterfly.
I love how she is tidy and orderly … the complete opposite of her mother.
I love how she routinely proclaims, “That’s awesome!” in an attempt to sound like her big brother.
I love that she is equal parts girly-girl (see the nail polish reference above) and tomboy (collecting a half dozen inchworms in her palm).
I love that she likes to give people, objects, etc. nicknames. Like our dog. (“I call her Ravy!” she’ll announce.) And rocks she finds outside (“I call it Rocky!”). And balloons (“I call it Balloony!”). You get the idea.
I love how we can have little conversations now.
I love her tangle of curls, even though it can be a challenge to comb in the morning.
I love how she enjoys going shopping with me, whether it’s the grocery store or the mall or Target, and is always willing to offer advice or a comment about an item I’ve picked off the rack or a box of cereal that I’m contemplating.
I love how she regularly compliments people (mostly women) on their clothes, jewelry, shoes, etc.
I love how she is truly an old soul.
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It’s funny. Who would have thought that sometime as seemingly small and trivial as nail polish would bring her –and me — such joy? These are memories I hope she hangs on to, are what she’ll remember when she reminisces about her childhood and the things she and I did together.
Happy 3rd birthday (tomorrow), sweet girl. I wouldn’t miss that manicure for the world.
Rachel @ Blonde with a Chanse says
I just found your website and I love it! Your little girl is so adorable!!!
Jessica says
Aww, thank you!! And welcome 🙂
Laura shifrin says
You have the best perspective on being a mkm. Your daughter sounds so sweet. Enjoy everything!!!! Laurs