Dear Ruby: Volume Three

Dear Ruby,

This is the third time I've written to you on the eve of your birthday -- by the time the sun comes up tomorrow morning, you'll be three years old. I can't believe it; I say this every year, but it feels like you were just a baby, though I can't ever remember life without you.

In the last year you've grown from a fun and curious toddler into a beautiful and clever young lady. While you often try my patience (usually unintentionally -- you're actually an amazingly well-behaved girl), you're delightful and charming and I feel honoured to get to spend my days with you (if you're reading this as a teenager, please don't let that last statement go to your head).

Here are some of the special things that make me think of you:

* You love music. One of your favourite games is pretending that you're Tina Turner or Marc Bolan from T-Rex (yes, we're warping your sense of musical currency) and singing while Daddy plays the guitar.

* You love swimming. Daddy takes you to lessons and you always impress the teacher.

* You love to talk. You talk more than anyone in our house (which is saying a lot, because as your Dad will tell you, I have been known to be pretty verbal myself).

* You're very sensitive. If another kid is crying, you get incredibly concerned.

* You're going to be an amazing sister. Your brother (who you call Frank) is due in a month and you hug and kiss him every day.

* Every day you tell me "Mama, I love you all the way to the moon. And back." I can't type any more about that without starting to cry.

Obviously, there are so many things that make you you, but that's just a taste. For now, happy birthday, my baby. I'm looking forward to many many more to come.