Tomorrow you are forty eight months old.

You have spent the last two nights with your grandparents at their beach house, and I was a bit sad we missed your last moments of being three. You came home late tonight, in time for a snack and bedtime, and I gave you a kiss goodnight, wishing you a happy birthday tomorrow.

I put your sister to sleep; Papa puts you to sleep. But tonight he came in and got me, saying you were over-tired and needed help falling asleep. I happily climbed into bed with you, nuzzled in close. I told you how much I missed you over the weekend. We talked about tomorrow. We decided on which cake to bake. I told you I'd be there for your birthday celebration at the end of the school day. And then with my nose pressed to your face, sweat forming where we touched (you are the hottest sleeper I've ever met), you fell asleep, breathing even, Lady in your arms, all tucked in, with the smell of your skin and sunscreen in my nose.

This is exactly how I want to remember three.

Happy Fourth Birthday.