Three....

My baby is three today.
It's still Christmas Eve for about 45 more minutes in my timezone, so it's still her birthday. My little unicorn (see... oh, about four posts back) is three today.

Sitting here, alone in the living room with the Christmas tree lit and stockings to be stuffed I feel so eternally grateful that sweet Lucy Margaret is here to celebrate Christmas with us this year. It's still quite raw when I allow myself to go back to when she was sick and it's like a fire hydrant of fear, sorrow and tears is opened if I really allow myself to feel the emotions that I went through during that time. One week that still brings me to my knees.

I don't look back on it so that I can constantly live in the past. I keep it all in my heart so that my view of life is altered. If chocolate milk is spilled down the front of a dress -- even a dress I made and put *hours* into making -- those hours mean nothing if the little girl wearing that dress isn't around ever. A stain is a stain and it's simply a mark of living.

Happy birthday, Lucy. I love you more than you'll ever know.