My goodness, I’m almost two months late. I know you’ll forgive me this time around, because you know I’m busy, what with settling into a new city/country/continent, and having to amuse your brother and you all day. Besides, I’ve been writing it in my head all this time.

My Dear Girl,

You are three years old. A big girl, as you keep reminding us. When I wrote the first of the birthday letters and posted it here on this blog, you were one year old. You grew a lot since then – you march (sometimes you stomp) towards independence at an alarmingly fast pace. You love doing things on your own. But what hasn’t changed a bit is your personality, which was quite evident when you were a tiny baby. You know what you want, and you make sure everyone involved knows it too. You want to do things your way, and I can’t blame you. It’s hard being the smallest kid on the playground. The other day I was astonished to see a baby, no older than two years, towering over you. But the amazing thing about you is that these incessant little insults and setbacks don’t frustrate you. You keep trying, going this way and that way, figuring out a way to get what you want. And if all else fails, you call out for me to get you there.

You are such a social creature. How much you miss having your friends to play with. I’m sorry we uprooted you from your social group, but your adaptability in this transition has come through like nothing I’ve seen before. Sure, you had a few rough days (ok, weeks. Ok, maybe less “rough” and more “hellish”. But you know what I mean). You bounced back though, and you adapted to the new situation. I’m sure you’d do great in the new daycare you’ll start in September. And I know that already you are enjoying the new surrounding, going to various museums and fun places with mommy and your brother.

I’m so glad you haven’t lost your voice. I’ll repeat my request that you’d lower your volume a notch or ten (man, you’re loud). But other than that, I’m so happy that you don’t give up on what you want, and that you are able to direct others to help you get it.

So, my wish to you on your third birthday is that you won’t get discouraged by being the smallest one. Don’t rely on other people to do things for you – find a way to do them for yourself. And don’t ever give up this lovely habit of yours to randomly look up at me and say, “Mommy, I love you”. I like that.

Yours forever,

Mommy.