Three!

Things I will miss when she doesn't say them anymore:

"We might get wet--we need baby suit."
"Wait! I need to smallow."
"We rode the shovel bus to Mother Goose parade."
"My shoe cane off!"
"The stunk went to the hospital."
"My ear hurts. It has a stab."
"The birdie said hello me!"

This is it. The last evening I can ever say "Well, I have a two-year-old" in a meaningful voice so that my addressee nods understandingly. As of tomorrow morning, I'll have a three-year-old, which just sounds so much more mature for some reason.

We have a lot of stuff planned for tomorrow, and I've got her gifts all wrapped (a microwave and a digital camera, because we're just that kind of gadget-obsessed household) but tonight is like any other. David and I are tapping away on the keyboard, and Jarrah is perched behind David fixing his hair.

"Does that hurt?" I ask him.

"No, it feel good." Jarrah answers. That's the way life is now. She even tells us what our feelings are.

Recently, I asked David: "She's a lot easier than she used to be, right?"

He widened his eyes and shook his head rapidly. I guess not. But that made me feel good, because it means I've gotten better at this in the past year. I keep my cool more than I used to. Trust me, I'm still a nutjob, though.

Just today, I saw the full spectrum of "three-ness." Watching her eat lunch at the next table with "big girls" Julianna and Kyra while I caught up with my friends Grace and Beth, I was struck by her tall legginess. She sat in a regular chair, ate with a fork, eschewed a bib, dunked her fries in the ketchup and schmoozed like a pro, even though her companions were both almost 9-years-old.

Then she fell off her chair without warning, and sobbed from the surprise and indignation of it. And though she was charming until 2:30, at 3:00 she was in a full, screaming 10-minute sprint around Rite-Aid with me, two tween girls and a security guard in hot pursuit, all because she didn't feel like having a diaper change (yes, there's still that, too.) On the bright side, maybe she'll be a track star?

There have been a lot of milestones this year. She started preschool a few days after her second birthday, and now she's the biggest girl in her class, and even takes dance and sports "after school." This year, she had her first haircut, and her first dentist visit, and rode her first bobsled. She mastered those scary ladders at the park--no more dangling and crying half-way up. She learned everybody's names. She developed her taste for all things chocolate. She had her first airplane trip and hotel stay since China, and took it all in stride. She started loving movies, and taking photos. She learned to ride a tricycle. She reads us books.

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It's the day after now, and we still have gifts to open. Everyone has been so generous and loving towards our little girl. It was a very busy birthday. We all woke up early (two of us not by choice) and Jarrah opened her camera, which is already proving a massive hit. Jarrah carried it in its little yellow shoulder bag all day long, and has already produced a documentary called "The I-5 Freeway: A Carseat-Eye View." Look for it at Sundance.

Then we were off for a park date with Mary, Paul and Joy, with a lot of swinging "high-yuh! fast-uh!" After that, we met David for lunch at Milton's, with a surprise cupcake chaser after the mac and cheese (Thanks, Paul and Mary!) Mary made "matchy-matchy" photo albums for Jarrah and Joy that told their whole story in pictures, from the day they met to now. I told her "This feels like it's really a gift for me." She said it was okay for me to think that. ;)

We headed home for nappies (3-years-old and still napping, lucky me!) and then met Jessica, Jason and Yea-Yea for dinner at Sammy's--pizza followed by a "messy parfait." (It's really called a messy sundae, but Jarrah speaks French now, did I mention?) Before, during and after there was screaming and running around the courtyard, opening of gifts (Thanks, J, J and Y!), and snapping of many chocolate-faced candids. Jarrah was more than ready for bed when we got home, though she did tell us "My birthday's in the future," which, I suppose, is true for all of us every day, n'est-ce pas?