Little Lee Turns Three!

**It should be noted: Blogger crashed for like 3 days and stole the original of this post. This is the sloppy second version. Kill them. Oh, and Leah's actual birthday was on the 12th but I couldn't post because of said blogger crash. Jus' sayin.**

Oh little Leah Mae,

I can't believe you are three today. If I sit for too long thinking about you being all big and three and no longer the little cherub who used to rub my upper arm raw to fall asleep, I will bawl my eyes out and slip into a sort of "time is going too quickly" funk wherein I binge eat and spend my days seeking out a bit of cushion to fall asleep on.

We've been through a lot, you and me. You ventured from your Heavenly Father's arms and down to mine during an exciting and crazy time. In your short life you've lived in five different apartments, in four different cities, in three different states. And we're moving again in a couple of months.

You have also been bestowed with a total of seven nicknames in the last three years. In no particular order:

Yitta Yee

Miss Mae

Turkey Sub

Schmeah Schmae

Schmee

Princess Leah

Leah Lou

... and they all fit you to a tee.

You've started to harness your inner WWF wrestler and have become a gentle and attentive big sister. This sends your mother over the moon. If my mothering produces no other result than you and Eve being best friends, I will consider myself victorious. Even if you become pot heads... so long as you're besties.

You have an affinity for drawing on the walls with crayons. And I've only been able to thwart your efforts by making you watch me break your crayons in half (aka snap their heads off) and pitch them into the garbage. All while pretending they (your crayons) are screaming. Anything less than this gruesome scene and you are unmoved.

You once saved me from a group of south side Chicago men who, upon seeing your angel face peering out from the back seat of our car, stopped their threatening advances and decided to leave me alone. The main instigator actually said, "Oh. I see your baby. You got lucky." I'm not sure what would have happened had you not been there, but for dramatic effect, let's just say you saved my life that day.

You are morally opposed to wearing clothing at home. As soon as we walk in the door, you begin shedding your clothing, and if I attempt any other activity, i.e. putting away groceries or feeding baby Eve, before attending to your nekedness, you morph quickly into a raging loon. I believe you inherited this from your Grammy. Your general attire of choice; panties, shoes and a few accessories.

You will currently ingest 11 items. Anything else, and I may as well be poisoning you. These items include, avocado, chicken nuggets, toast, peanut butter and honey sandwiches, cheese, grapes, strawberries, bananas, yogurt, pizza, and your very favorite, tomatoes.

You are obsessed with flowers and are constantly presenting me with dandelions, the only ones you are allowed to pick.

You have ridiculously long and luxurious curly hair and I am accused regularly by other people of lying about its natural splendor. In fact, at Disneyland, we overheard a woman pointing at you and saying, "Oh, wow, look, that little girl got her hair all done up to meet the princesses." And even though I did nothing of the sort, I felt overcome with immediate "Toddlers and Tiaras" shame. No one seems to want to believe I don't make you sleep in curlers each night... turns out the world's just not ready for your fabulous mane.

Every night we go to bed talking about Princess Leah. These stories always include Josh, Isaiah and Lucy, and your "best friends," Belle, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel the Mermaid and Snow White. You are currently alienating Cinderella. She is not allowed in your stories or out of your princess drawer during the day to play. I'm not sure what she did to lose favor in your eyes.

After our Princess Leah stories, you want me to sing, "Ol' McDonald had a farm," with the order of animals going puppy, kitty cat, cow, duck, pig and repeat. This continues until you begin to snore. Only once the snoring begins is it safe for me to move. You'll be happy to hear you snore loudly.

You have recently mastered the art of going potty in the toiley. And you often shout, "Moooomm! I went pee on the floor!!" for me to come running in, only to find you perched on the pot, giggling away. You think you are super funny. You also find it necessary to "de-robe" in public before announcing you have to go.

You make your way into our bedroom every night by 2Am and swat the bottom of the bed until your dad and I wake up and acknowledge you. Then you scurry up the bed and shout around, "I'm coldy!" or, "There's scary monsters!" before settling in between us. You demand mama's pillow and daddy's "blank-let" and then let out a grandiose sigh once you've situated yourself comfortably.

I wouldn't have it any other way. Except for maybe you staying in your own bed all night and not waking me up or stealing my pillow. But mostly, I wouldn't change a thing.

Here are a few of the ways we celebrated your big day this year:

We started out with some good ol' fashioned birthday loot...

A new Belle dress for twirling...

And once we discovered your exposure to bikes has been so limited that you were a complete tard on one at the park the other day, we decided it was time you had one of your very own...

For lunch we went for a little Cheesecake Factory delight. You put together your birthday ensemble. I was quite impressed...

Dadbehindcamera/Mominfrontofcamera FAIL.

Somehow these pictures met your dad's approval after he took them and we moved on from the "girl's photo shoot" to....

Perfect daddy/daughter bliss...

That's better.

And you delighted in anything with a lit candle in it. Even a sacrament cup of whip cream...

After lunch we went on a summer clothes shopping spree.

The Par-Tay....

Pillaging the tasty loot before your guests arrived....

Opening presents amidst some of your favorite munchkins...

It was a glorious night for an even glorious-er little girl.

The morning after...

To Grammy, Leah has been doing this over and over for six hours straight...

And the Salazars, let's just say, Leah slept with this last night...

Leah, I love you more than I can say! Happy, happy birthday, beautiful girl.