And, today, you're three.

Listen, guys. I try really hard not to be sappy and fall into a pit of hyperbolic nostalgia every time a significant date goes by, but WHO AM I KIDDING? Hyperbole is my life force (here's looking at you, Jen Hatmaker) and when it comes to my daughter, nostalgia dominates my every waking moment. When she was born, I reminisced on the days I imagined becoming a mother, thinking back to that young woman who wondered what her first child would look like, smell like, feel like. The night before Lucy turned one, I rocked her to sleep and kissed her pretty blonde head as I whispered, "You're not a baby anymore, but you're still my baby." Last year, as she stuck out her pinky and took a sip of her birthday tea, I marveled at the tiny human we'd made who would, sooner rather than later, become a big, grown-up human.

And every year, I cry.

A Few True Things

I'm a little sad that October is over. Fall is so incredibly lovely, and I wish it could stick around forever and ever AMEN. I usually start feeling a little panicky when November rolls around because October went by too fast and it will be December 26th (literally the worst day of the year) before we know it and then I'll start sinking into a seasonal depression because cool weather is the bee's knees but cold, gray weather is AWFUL and I just can't.