Baby girl is about to turn three.
And of course, in true Lily fashion, she has shown me in the last week that I haven't even tasted what the "trying 3's" are - because Lord knows, she will put Luke and Emma and their third year to shame.
She's right. I'm toast.
This week I have fought and lost my temper like I have never before with anyone and I have to admit (embarrassingly enough) that it was with my almost 3 year old. And even worse, it was over a sippy cup. She had two purple cups and wasn't willing to share with her baby brother because she wanted two purple cups, obviously and I was being incredibly mean because I was forcing her to let her brother have one. Yes, ridiculous I know - but alas, World War 3 broke out in our home that day and it wasn't a pretty sight.
When I first became a mom, all I heard about was the terrible 2's. Then when Luke and Emma were close to 3, then all the parents began to tell me the harsh reality that 3 is even worse than 2. One parent told me that 4 was when it became easy, but they were proven completely and utterly wrong when I had two four year olds in my house and was overwhelmingly outnumbered by 2 four year olds who KNOW EVERYTHING (just ask them.) Bit Lily, despite the delight that she normally is, has proven over and over and over again that two of the twins don't even come close to what one Lily can do.
You know, she was a surprise...the best surprise in my entire life, but a surprise none the less. I mean, I should have known from the beginning that she wasn't going to fit into any mold that was placed on her. We had the twins with the help of IVF and a month before I got pregnant with Lily I visited my doctor once again. He reassured me that I in fact still could not have children without the help of fertility treatments of some sort and that birth control was just not an issue I needed to worry my pretty little head about (ok, he didn't say pretty little head, but it's more fun to imagine that it went that way) Anyway, low and behold one month later I swung by my mom's house one morning with my nine month old twins (yes, 9 months - God must have known that I was mentally stable enough to undergo that task - ha!) and smelled the eggs that were cooking and gagged. I just knew I was pregnant.
Six pregnancy tests later, there was no denying that I was in fact pregnant.
Grand, I tell you.
Dave had just bought a brand new truck and was questioning if he should keep it. So that morning (before the gagging and the 6 pregnancy tests) he decided he would ask his boss for a raise and if he got one, he would keep the truck. If not, it would go back to the dealership for a more economical vehicle. When he got home that night, he was thrilled. We sat down to eat dinner, and he was so excited to tell me that his boss said yes. They decided to give him a ten percent raise! I sat there choking down my food, as all I could think about when he was telling me this was that we needed to get rid of the truck and get a minivan. Poor Dave.
As he finished telling me about his glorious day, he then looked over and said, "How was your day?"
"Um, it was fine, um, the babies were good, um, I'm pregnant."
"No,no,no,no,no,no,no." It couldn't be, how could this happen, we just spent fifteen thousand dollars to do IVF and now we are pregnant again?! It wasn't until we had our first ultrasound a few days later that it sunk in...for me - I think when she was born, he realized it was real, that she was real - that she in fact, was going to take our family by storm and be a force to be reckoned with, and one of the biggest best blessings we would ever be given.
Oh, this little girl. She makes us laugh so hard. She is funny, and smart. She is strong-willed to say the least (not in the stubborn sense, but in the real strong-willed sense) and she doesn't veer from the path that she is on.
Oh Lily, you have my heart little girl - and if only I could figure out how to not let you win EVERY SINGLE argument we engage in.
Happy birthday Princess.