Dear Annie Bananie,

Or, to use your full name, Annie Bananie Cuckoo Katanie:

I'm sorry.  I've really dropped the ball on this blog.  The last year and a half have been really busy, I just lost steam, and figured who cares.  But then I look back at the stories I've written down about Mabes, and realize you've kind of gotten the shaft.  You are a such a fun little girl and I don't want to forget the little things that make me smile every day.  So I'm writing this down so that when you're older and ask about what kind of kid you were, I can tell you.  At three years old, you were:

HILARIOUS.  You make me laugh every day and you know it.  Your sense of humor is much more subtle than your crazy older sister's, but you've been funny for as long as I can remember.  As a baby, there was something in your eyes, and now also the way you raise one eyebrow, your little half-smile with dimple, or the way you give me the side eye.  Your timing is fantastic--you know when to crack a joke and when to reel it in.  I'll ask you to make a silly face and it's a different one every time.  You do silly walks for me, though my longstanding favorite is the penguin: arms straight down, hands flared out, legs straight, chin tucked in, eyebrows raised and you shuffle around the room.  

(the stink eye)

Sweet.  You give the best hugs.  My favorite is our hands free hug.  I wear you like a front pack and you cling to me for as long as you can (this isn't long if you're giggling) until you get tired and yell "Yes hands!"  and I wrap my arms around you.  After a break, you yell "No hands!" and I let go and you're back to being a little koala on me. This game lasts until you are tired or I actually need to get something done.  And you give the best supersqueezes.  It's much easier to start my day after I've had an Annabelle supersqueeze.

You adore your siblings.  You're such a good big sister.  You help me with Bubs, you comfort him when he gets hurt, sing and dance for him, make him laugh, even share your beloved Littlest Pet Shop toys with him.  And he lights up when he sees you.  You insist on trying to hold him, but refuse to acknowledge he's almost as big as you are.  You think you're almost as big as Mabes, or as you sometimes call her, Mabes-a-doodle.  You have been counting down to "summer bacation" and now that it's here you are thrilled to have Mabes home every day.  You guys are silly and crazy and sometimes get a little out of hand, but you love each other so much. 

Imaginative. You can entertain yourself for hours.  I love listening outside your room during quiet time and hearing all the fun your toys are having.  I didn't put you in preschool this year.  Over the summer and at the beginning of the school year, I was dealing with a colicky baby and the thought of scheduled preschool was just one more thing and it seemed too overwhelming.  Besides, you're not going to kindergarten until fall 2015, so I figured we have time.  Apparently, you decided to go to school anyway.  Each day, you would tell me about your preschool, the things you were learning, the kids in your class, the food fights (daily!), the painting fiascoes, the turtle class pet, and your teacher Miss Kinsey who is really fun and sleeps on a bench (you weren't clear as to whether it was a park bench or some bench in her house...but it kind of sounded like a park bench).  You've told me about your friends Fossa and Kinsa and Moussa, and sometimes they tag along when we run errands.  We've had as many as 10 of your friends go with us to Costco, Hobby Lobby, and the grocery store, and you've assured me that they are all properly buckled into carseats and will behave.  They're kind enough to bring their own snacks, and you're quick to point out that they won't make messes of their strawberries and apricots.  When they're with us, you are exceptionally well-behaved, presumably to set an example for these friends.  I hope they stick around. 

Self conscious...at times.  If you're trying to do something challenging, you don't want me to watch.  You like to exercise with me, but I'm not allowed to look at you while you do squats with your Lincoln Log weights.  Since you've been potty trained, every time you go to the bathroom you tell me I can't say "good job." 

And confident at other times.  You firmly believe you can do everything Mabes can. Last night, she was jumping in the pool and though you had been timid at the pool a couple of days earlier, you decided you could jump in, too.  After a few jumps you turned to Dad with excitement in your face and said "Dis time, I'm going to jump in by myself and it will be AMAZING."  You did, and it was.  A couple of weeks ago, you were painting and as you put the finishing touches on your work of art, you surveyed it with obvious satisfaction and with a smug smile whispered, "I'm the best Annabelle ever!"  I smiled and agreed with you, but that snapped you back to reality.  You shot me a look and said, "No, Mommy, you don't say that." Oh, okay.  "You just say, 'I love you, Annie.'"  Got it.  I love you, Annie.

Fun to watch sleep.  Yep, it makes me sound kind of creepy, but sometimes when I check on you before I go to bed, I just sit and watch you.  You're so peaceful and sweet, and sometimes you giggle.  Just an FYI--I'm not sure when, if ever, I'll stop.  Hopefully by the time you're in high school?

Even more fun to wake up.  Aunt Laura and Aunt Becca have this running joke about how cute babies are when they're sleeping, so let's wake them up and play with them. It was so difficult for Mabes to fall asleep and stay asleep that even joking about waking her up was enough to send me into panic mode.  On the other hand, you often wake up when I come into your room to close your curtains or turn off your fan, and when you see me, your face lights up and I feel like a celebrity when you smile and squeal, "You checked on me!" as you realize I'm holding up my end of the bedtime bargain.  The other night, I missed bedtime so when I came to check on you, I kissed your forehead, adjusted your blanket, and tried to sneak out.  As I made it to the door, I heard, "Hug me, mommy!" I was happy to oblige.  We hugged and I whispered "I love you so very much, Annie."  You smiled, laid down, closed your eyes, raised your eyebrows, and whispered, "I love today so much...swimming...bubbles...super MEGA bubbles...I love today."

 You're not perfect--you whine, throw fits, scream, ignore me, make your sister mad...you're three.  But you're a little ball of amazing; you're a smart, precocious little girl and I'm so grateful I get to watch you grow up.  Time goes by way too fast and I know that all too soon, you'll be grown up and I'm going to wonder where this sweet little three year old went.  My heart aches just thinking about it.

But I won't dwell on that.  Instead, I'll go check on you tonight and look forward to a supersqueeze in the morning.

I love you, puppy.