Dear Kids,

Sometimes, I still can't believe there are three of you. I barely got used to Katie, and POW, there was Zac. And now, I'm still getting to know Zac, and Alex is here now. You're a handful. Several handfuls.

But I love you. When I try to recall what my life was like before you, I literally cannot imagine not having you around. To me, you have just always been here. Someday, you won't be here. I know I have to treasure all of you for exactly who you are, right now.

Katie, you're six now; almost seven. You're deep in the magical fairy-princess stage of little girlhood. You love your dolls. Even the one-armed one that smells. Every night, you have fabulous masked balls with your dolls, thrown by the Prince, who is really a very small baby doll.

You're a small version of me, except much smarter. You are so, so eager to learn new things. Last week, in the midst of election mania, you asked many questions about voting and ballots, and the next night, you held elections to determine which of your Barbies&trade would get to marry the prince.

You know how else you're like me? You hate to be fussed over. I put up your hair every morning and every day, when I pick you up, it's down. I have a suspicion you'll hate makeup. You're not a girly girl.

Zac, sometimes you play with Katie and you're even beginning to play pretend, just like she does. Just this week, you started fixing your cars. You are without a doubt the stubbornest kid I've ever met. But you somehow know when I'm serious and will do what you're told, nine times out of ten.

You're stubborn, but you're also very sweet. You love to say "gnite, Mom!" when I tuck you in. You say "sowwy" when you've just been naughty. In fact, your speech and vocabulary improves every single day. You read voraciously, bringing me three or four books a day to read to you. You can count to twenty occasionally. You remind me so much of your grandpa Ed, the way you strut around with your sippy cup. You are a tough guy.

Alex, right now, you sleep a lot. But you are so gorgeous when you sleep. I think you're going to be very mellow. Your Grandma Gayle says that she was a third child, too, which made her very calm and easygoing and she thinks you'll be the same way. She might be right; you love to smile. You weigh fifteen pounds already. They tell me that that's not really all that much, but you seem big and healthy to me. I can't wait til you're a toddler. But still, I really like you all the way you are now.

Love,

Mama

Posted by: Lisa at November 6, 2004 08:43 PM

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