My beautiful firstborn daughter turned 3 years old. 3. That’s a preschooler. That’s how old the kids were that I used to teach. It’s amazing how slowly and quickly time goes.
I should be filled with dread and sadness at the fact that my baby is growing up, but instead God has granted me hope. It’s no secret that Maggie has challenged us greatly at two years old. But just as we thought we would never get through to her, that nothing was ever going to work for her, we started to notice small changes. She began to verbalize feelings (“Ooh, I’m so FRUSTRATED!”) and started to understand right from wrong. These small but monumental changes have given us hope that 3 will be much better than 2. She is still a spitfire and very energetic, but we’re been able to mostly funnel it into productive activities. She now loves to sit and read or do crafts or play games. Maggie has some dear friends, who she loves and talks about constantly. Her best friend is her cousin Kailee, a sweet fact she shares with everyone. She loves going to gymnastics open house, she loves swimming, airplanes, and motorcycles. Her favorite books right now are Pete the Cat books. She knows all her letters, counts to 20 and backwards from 10, she can spell her name, and she knows the colors of the rainbow. She has a fantastic memory and I know it is going to bite me in the butt someday soon.
Sweet Maggie has a giving heart and loves easily. She is adventurous and excitable, but also kind and thoughtful. She is growing up into a beautifully wonderful little girl and we thank God for her every day.
We love you, Maggie girl, more and more each day.