Good Things Come in Threes

Lili turned three exactly two weeks ago today. For the moms, three loomed ahead of us like the taut ribbon of a finish line, a parenting goal both visible and seemingly unattainable. Three was the magic number that toddler legends are made of, when the daily grind of flared tempers, verbal landmines, and Shakespearean dramatizations magically cease, not unlike the moment when the illumination of the sun through post-storm clouds makes even the most cynical of non-believers ponder the likelihood of God. Three would be different. Three had to be different.

One recent Saturday morning, on our way to ECFE class (or "mom therapy", as we like to call it), the sheer volume of words that emanated from my daughter's car seat, and the tenacity with which they arrived, was enough to render my own ability to form a cohesive sentence immobile for the remainder of our day together. From our initial approach of the 4th Street exit to the Santana Foods on the corner (a distance approximately the length of a football field), Lili bombarded us with a series of pressing, thoroughly unrelated questions.

"Mommy, tell me about Whiskey (the horse)."

"Do we need to get gas every week?"

"Mama, does that truck have a combustible engine?"

 "Am I a little babe?"

"Are we going fast, slow, or...medium?"

"Tell me about when class is over and the janitor locks the building".

"Mommy, where does the janitor live?"

"Mama, do you like your coffee weak and does Mommy like her coffee decaf?"

Sometime between the 35W overpass and Central Avenue, Mama and I looked at each other wearily, leaned against our respective headrests, and laughed. We laughed until we cried, because sometimes, as parents, that's all we can do.

We do our best.

We do our reasonable, attentive, utterly devoted best.

Despite my own failed attempts at perfection---perfect wife, perfect mother, perfect mid-level manager---my daughter remains her most imperfect, chatty, temperamental self.

She remains---always--- her best, most inspired, breathtaking self, and her truth both maddens and inspires me. Mostly, though, it simply humbles me. Through one...two...and now three. 

Happy three, my sweet darling. Mommy loves.