thirty-six months

Dear Lucy,

Three years! Your body is long and stretched now, your belly shrinking and your limbs taking on the proportions of a little girl. You run faster and faster, you don't fall down as much.

Some days you want to be little, some days you want to be big. When our neighbor asked you how old you were going to be on your birthday, you first refused to answer, then you said "Zero!" She asked you what happens when you turn zero, and you said, "I disappear!" I felt proud of your grasp of foundational math.

You told your uncle Austin that little brother was still a baby, but that soon you will be a grown-up. He told you there was no hurry. Later, I ask you what you will do when you are a grown-up, and you list three things:

I will be able to put things in the oven.
I will saw wood.
I will drink coffee.

This is what grown-ups do.

We have started to put your hair in braids so that it doesn't tangle. Your curly ringlets were becoming a casualty to nighttime tossing and turning, but Aunt Sarah showed you braids and we haven't looked back. I like it when we end them about half way down and your curls still peek out at the ends.

You love to go with me on errands now, and I like it too. You help me find groceries and you stay right next to the cart, and when we go down the Mexican food aisle you stumble upon the round crackers that are your favorite and you say, "Here is what we were looking for!" even though we weren't looking for them at all.

But I buy them, because I love the way your face lights up in recognition when the world gives you tiny nice things, and it's just what you expected would happen.

You still call me mama and mommy, but you also call me mom (in a funny voice, as though you know it sounds ridiculous) and mother and mama bear. Sometimes you call me your little daughter. When I hurt myself you run to kiss it, and when we imagine something scary you tell me that we will keep each other safe.

Grow, grow, grow, little baby bear! But not too fast.

Love,

Your Mama

oscar helps me get ready for lucy's birthday party

Oscar Pom Pom from Amber Broughton on Vimeo.

Also: I recognize that at 42 seconds this video is too long, and yet, I couldn't find any seconds I was willing to cut out.

One year

Dear Lucy,

You are one year old. Twelve months, three-hundred sixty-five days, ten zillion minutes.

You spent your birthday sick, nose running and eyes glassy, snuggled up next to my neck and napping for most of the day. Two bright spots: first, snuggling with you was definitely not the worst way I can think of to spend your birthday, and second, we finally got some use out of that rocking chair! In your usual state of being you are all get-up-and-go, you have things to explore, if you're not sleeping you don't want to be sitting still. But yesterday you were happy to be rocked and sang to, burrowing in and trying to get comfortable.

Today you were feeling a little better, I dressed you in the ruffle bloomers I sewed up last night because I couldn't wait until your official party to see you in them. I wish the ruffles were a little higher, but you make anything look adorable.

You are one year old!

Also today you did three awesome things. One: Our neighbor brought over our half of the farm share vegetables; you dug through the container until you found the tomatoes in their plastic box, then you promptly walked the box over to the recycling bin where plastic boxes belong. We of course had to rescue the tomatoes, but I was impressed with your initiative. Two: Your daddy was playing some music on the computer, and you went over to the dining room table, put your hands on the chair, and started to dance. You've danced before, but the way you were wiggling to the rhythm this time was something special. Three: It was after your bath, almost bedtime, you were in your pajamas exploring the living room. You walked over to your dad and I sitting on the floor and gave us both goodnight kisses, we didn't encourage you in the least. It was the sweetest thing I have ever seen.

Every day you are older and more lovely, more fun and more surprising.

A whole year!

Love,
Your mama