Big changes, all at once

DOM turned three this past Monday. After a year of parenting a two-year-old - and, quite honestly, a year I was afraid would never end - I have on my hands a full-blown three-year-old. In the past few weeks, perhaps sensing the importance of the upcoming birthday, when many toys heretofore deemed unsafe for her little hands are now squarely in her demographic, she made some great strides in development. Most importantly - she is finally, blessedly potty trained.

It's strange how it all happened, almost as though someone flipped a switch. A friend of mine says that the ages 4-11 are parental nirvana, and I can see that starting to happen. She can recognize many letters, and knows the sounds they make. She can entertain herself with toys for increasing periods of time. She can count to "twenty-ten" (the number after 29), as long as you don't care about that pesky number 16. She can swim in the pool with water wings on. But all is not milk and honey. She can still throw a tantrum at the drop of the hat, and many of these new skills and abilities are freaking her out, so she likes to regress at times and have me do things for her that I know she can do herself.

But I have seen the light at the end of the tunnel. She has moved from baby to kid. And, frankly, I'm enjoying more than I ever thought I would.