Three

I've decided I really like Three. The age, that is.

The first year of G's life was hard for me. There are so many adjustments to be made and when you throw in post-partum depression, it made for a rough time for everyone involved.

Between the ages of 1 and 2 was a good time. We had worked out the sleep issues and were both getting plenty of it. I had managed to work through my depression. G started walking and the world was a new and exciting place every second of the day.

Between 2 and 3 got tougher again. G began to figure out that she was an independent person and she took every opportunity to assert and test that independence. But there were so many things she wanted to do and just wasn't capable of yet. Lots of frustration.

Now G is 3. Things have gotten progressively better over the last few months. She still tests her limits but overall she is turning out to be a pretty well-behaved little girl. She still naps in the afternoon which gives me a break. The world is still an exciting place with new discoveries every day. But my favorite part is watching her play. Po.lly Po.ckets have recently invaded our home and G absolutely loves them. One day she spent three straight hours in her own little imaginary world, acting out all sorts of things with the dolls. I'm fascinated to watch her concoct all sorts of stories and it makes me really aware that she is always watching me and not a whole lot gets past her.

So I am liking 3 so far. Weird how the good years and bad seem to alternate. Makes me rather afraid that the same pattern will occur with the new baby because then someone will always be in a bad year. Sometimes I let myself look down the road and think that I have 3 years at least to get this new baby to a point where I feel like I really enjoy being a mother. And by then G will be 6! I'm sure it was just yesterday that the midwife handed her to me and I marveled that they were actually going to send this tiny baby home with me - no instructions or degree required. Wow.