No, I three!

Dear Savannah, Saturday you were very grown up.  You wore 3T pants and they were not long at all!  You pooped in the potty, "read" at least 10 books you had memorized, and insisted you were not two, but in fact three years old.  You were a picture of your next summer self, and I must admit, I was surprised to see how reluctant I felt to see you that way.

When you woke up Sunday, you were sullen, loud, and refused to poop (or pee) in the potty.  You wore a 3T dress that looked like the "before" outfit on an "after" body.  Your vocabulary consisted of "no," "mine," and the ever-used "Sydney no touch my..." followed by your held out hand in your sister's face.  In short, you were two again.  And I wasn't happy with that either.

Sorry I want your age to be whatever is most convenient (and least emotionally taxing) for me.  It's a good thing I'm not in charge of your mood or my sanctification would be much slower.  I just want you to know that I love you very much - sick or healthy,  two or "three"- and you feel free to grow and develop at the rate God has set out for you.  That's what you're going to do anyway.  :)

Oh, and that unsolicited kiss you blew to me and your daddy when we left your room just about knocked us both over.  I really thought I was going to hit the floor when my knees buckled.  I think Daddy said it best,  "The answer to your question is no.  She could not possibly be cuter."