Emily turned the big “3” on Saturday July 7th, 2007. Quoted as the “luckiest” day on earth, but I think they missed the mark by a few years!

What feels like yesterday, I was holding this tiny, purple (are you sure she isn’t black? asked Jeremy a few minutes after she was born) baby with a black mohawk for hair. I remember standing on my front stoop at our tiny apartment in Jefferson, OH in the blazing heat the day after I brought her home from the hospital. All of our friends drove by on their way out of town, loaded up in “Regina”, not knowing that it would be her final trip to the Hills, and for most of them, their final trip too. They honked and waved and all of the sudden I was filled with this strange feeling. I didn’t want to go camping and boozing for the weekend. I wanted to stay home and get to know this little new person. Weird. Jamboree in the Hills and Emily will always be linked. I met Jeremy at JITH 2003, and Emily was born the weekend before JITH 2004. Yep, we moved quickly, but when you know, you know, or something like that!

Anyways, back to Emily. Now, she is in “pre-school”. Almost 3 ½ foot tall, big enough to ride in a “pink seat”, blond hair that needs regular haircuts, big blue eyes that aren’t quite the same color as his, but share the inability to hide their emotions. A love for the outdoors and animals, and little patience for a slower pace. Attitude from here to there and back again, full of energy and words that never seem to stop tumbling out. Sometimes all I wish for is a minute of peace and quiet, then when I finally get it, I can’t wait for her to wake up or come home so I can hear what she’s thinking about again. It might be monsters. Or hotdogs. Or Dora. You never know with my muffin.

No longer do we have the simple debates regarding temperature of the bottle or what brand of diapers to buy. Now, we have to discuss the “real” stuff like what preschool to send her to. Is it important for her to learn at the age of three or to play for another year? Is she really smarter than the average kid, or is it just because love makes you blind? Or, what is the best way to discipline her. I don’t want to break her spirit, but at what point will she learn to use utensils properly? I can’t handle her feeding herself with her hands for much longer!

I think the hardest thing for me is going to be the realization that she’s her own person now. I’ve had a doll to play with, but that doll is starting to have her own likes and dislikes and she makes them known! At night, I can still put her to bed and she’ll stay put and listen to stories and songs as long as I can perform. But one night, she’ll be too big for backrubs and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. She’s already starting to direct the performance. It’s her choice what books we read, how many, what songs we sing, what order. I can only hope my final curtain call doesn’t come for years and years.

I still feel a pang of jealousy when I hear others talk about their weekends with friends and food and liquor and concerts and the beach and bikinis. But, then I realize that they didn’t get to spend 07/07/07 – the luckiest day – watching Emily finally conquer the “big kids” tunnel at Chuck E Cheese and they totally missed the smile on her face as she emerged at the end, 20 feet up in the air, and they didn’t get to hear her yell “Momma, I did it!” That one was mine. All mine.