Three!

A few days after Brooke was born, I remember sitting with her in her room and rocking her. She was absolutely tiny, weighing less than six pounds. Her little pinky finger was as long as my pinky is wide. She was so delicate and fragile, swimming even in her little pink preemie clothes.

Outside her window I could hear kids at the bus stop. I remember looking at her and thinking that kindergarten seemed a million years away. I pictured a little girl with long, dark hair and brown eyes that looked just like her daddy waiting at the bus stop.

I was wrong about two things: 1) my blue-eyed blond girl looks nothing like her daddy and 2) kindergarten is most certainly not a million years away. We're more than halfway there already. Brooke started preschool yesterday.



And she turns three next week!

Don't worry, I won't get all teary-eyed on you. This is such a sweet, happy time. Brooke visibly lights up any time we mention her party. She knows the drill: cake, ice cream, presents and grandparents. We're doing a simple little Tinkerbell party with just the grandparents. I can't wait to watch her have an amazing day!

I love that little girl to pieces and I can't believe three years have gone by since God let us have her.

Blessed, we are.