Well folks, as of three weeks ago, I am the parent of a three-year old. For some reason, in my mind age three is the end of toddler-hood and marks the beginning of childhood. I have mixed feelings over this birthday. On the one hand, Katherine now mostly understands me and it able to carry on a conversation (except when it's time to clean up and she suddenly doesn't speak English anymore). It's also a lot more fun to buy birthday and Christmas presents for her. Baby toys are just not as fun to shop for as Barbies and Legos. But on the other hand, my cute sweet little baby is getting that much closer to adulthood and that makes me old. And on the other other hand, it's frustrating because she ought to be using a toilet by now, which is another post entirely.
But even though Katherine is a child and doesn't really resemble a baby anymore, I have decided that I'm not going to change the nicknames I have for her. I am calling Katherine "my baby" until one of us dies. She's just going to have to deal with it.
