Sophie's birthday was Sunday. Hard to believe my little one is three years old. (note: an adorable photo would normally accompany this post, except that I can't get any of them from the camera to the computer currently. Hopefully fixed soon.)

We had a fun day, which included Sophie being serenaded at church (and did she ever eat it up!), a huge Ernie balloon, and strawberry shortcake for desert. I was on my way to grab her pajamas out of her room when I did a quick email check and saw my update from babycenter. This time it said "About Your Three Year Old" and when I opened it, the header said "Your Preschooler This Week."

Not your toddler, which is what it usually says. Your PRESCHOOLER.

I completely broke down in front of the computer. Everyone is fond of telling me, "Oh,they grow up so fast, enjoy them while they're young, blah blah blah." I said to my mom only last week that I would like to buy my kids a fast ticket to kindergarten and that I wished everyone would shut up about enjoying them while they were young.

Now I get it.

My Sophie is never going to fit in the crook of my arm again. Never going to curl up in my lap for a midnight feeding and be rocked to sleep. She's running, leaping, jumping, twirling. I don't MISS the constant care she used to need, but I do remember all those things and how far she's come.

Sophie is sheer delight, incarnate. She feels so passionately about everything. She makes up songs, has an incredible imagination, and can I brag here, the girl is READING. She actually taught herself to read. She is the neatest three-year-old I have ever met and I love her with all my heart. I am so fiercely proud of her and I can't wait to see what's coming up for her in the year ahead.

It used to terrify me that if I died today, my children wouldn't have any memories of me. But the fact is, it doesn't matter. I have enough memories for all of us.