This week, our sweet Lulu turns 3.
Lulu, I can't say that you've spend the past year coming into yourself because, honestly, you've been very much your own person since day one. You've known -- precisely, unwaveringly -- you wanted and what you liked, even before you had the words to show us. No, all I can say is that each day, your dad and I are getting to see all of the facets of that one-and-only-you.
You prefer old movies (the original 1961 Parent Trap and The Princess Bride are your favorites) to cartoons. Your favorite "toy" is your dad's boxed set of four Paris Review books, which you pretend are everything from pillows to ice skates to tiny stages. You claim your favorite food is rotten noodles, that you don't speak English, and that we are actually your coworkers. You make us laugh every day.
A champion worrywart, I have to say that I don't worry as much about you, Lulu. I know you'll have heartbreaks and failures and all sorts of obstacles that everyone faces, of course; but I can't imagine for a second that any queen bee or boyfriend will shake your sense of self or steer you off course.
Just in case we forget, here's a snapshot of Lulu, age 3.
You, in five words: Funny, affectionate, independent, spirited, stubborn
Favorite activities: Make believe, make believe, make believe. You love to play "Mama, Baby, and Big Sister"... as long as you're not in the role of the baby. You love playing school and ballet class. You are a mermaid in the bathtub. You are a hard-knocked orphan from Annie. Sometimes we have to request that you be Lulu for awhile.
Least favorite things: Sleep, which you've declared is too boring. You've never slept past 6:30, and I doubt you ever will.
Future aspirations: Professional paper-cutter, mother to 13 kids, and nurse.