Three.

My daughter turned three a couple weeks ago. She was and is thrilled about the milestone. A couple days after her birthday she unlatched and pushed open the car door from the inside and exclaimed "mom! I opened my own door! I am three now and I can open my own door! I couldn't do that when I was two!" It has been like that ever since, like magic dust was thrown on her and now every new word and accomplishment is summed up with "because now I am three" or "I get three because I am three" (this does not apply to naps or anything else that lacks sugar.

She tells me she loves me all the time now - when she was two she could say I love you on demand, but now she will look at me and out of the blue say "I love you mom". I am loved my many (lucky me), but nobody touches my heart like my Claire. She doesn't hand out love to everybody that smiles at her (like my easy-going and delightful son). 

Last weekend at the playground a little girl asked her what her name was and if she wanted to play. Claire easily and happily replied "I'm Claire" and "no I don't want to do that - I am playing with my mommy". I looked apologetically at the dismissed little girl but I also felt honored and really cool to be at the top of Claire's desired playmate list. I am very aware that this is a special time.