Third Times the Charm

                        
Do you know those giant, brightly colored, swirly Lollipops you find at a large carnival or amusement park? The type that are too large to make sense, noticeable from across the park, painted like a rainbow?? They are obscenely sugary and sweet.  Even as an adult, you have the urge to throw caution to the wind and buy just one.  Then you remember: giant Lollipops are sticky, messy they inevitably stick to your clothes or gather any fuzz floating nearby like Velcro.  But they just Look so Happy!
My Baby.  My Coco. Is a real-life Lollipop.

Too sweet?  Too sugary? Without question.
She has left a wake of charmed admirers, behind her confident little hip-shaking walk.  She will small-town chat up strangers.  She has enthralled her uncles, convinced her aunts to play Barbies for hours... with hardly a smile or much effort.  She owns her brother, her father and her grandfathers.  Coco's hugs are intoxicating sweetness. 
She has expertly learned to run and wrap her arms around her grandmothers... just before demanding a doughnut or a new toy.

She is a Skittles rainbow of brightness.  Very early, she insisted on dressing herself (to her mother's dismay).  She prefers Broadway costumes.  Skirts over sweatpants? Rain boots with nightgowns? Hair ties as bracelets, upside down sunglasses?? Sometimes.. all combined in one fabulous ensemble. 
There is no such thing as TOO much color, TOO many sparkles or TOO many fabric clashing layers. 

She radiates: "Look at me. Notice me. Remember me!" Her sista Tinkerbell, continues to be our most sarcastic but Coco is the most dramatically amusing. By Far.  She is a showman.  Jazz hands, hip shakes, eye rolls and head tilts.  She's not afraid of props.  She assigned herself a stage name. She is a singer, a dancer, a skipper, a runner.  Coco has proven from the Yoga stage or the jump roping gym floor... that this girl craves a clapping audience.

I'm pretty sure we're raising a Cheerleader. Oh my.

 If you are able to calm her, if even for a moment.  If you are able to look past the growling, wipe away the sticky fuzz or dirt accumulating on her all too often messy face.  If you imagine, what her hair should look like tamed if she would JUST LET HER MOTHER fix it!! you may notice: Coco is beautiful.  Breathtakingly, shockingly, can't look away from her painting: Beautiful.
Her pouty lips are Snow White worthy.
Her Lollipop colored swirly eyes, change each day with mood-ring dips and sways.
And dare I say: She is oddly even more inspiring with her self-designed pixie hair-cut.
As each year passes, I am clearly able to see the beautiful woman, she will become.

My little Baby:

Today, you turn Three.  Though you are convinced you run with a pack of 5 year olds.  And I am not sure, you are wrong.  You are so FULL of life.  The best part of your Daddy.  Both of you, are The Babies of your family... completely unwilling or unable to be ignored. 

You project pure confidence.  Charging through our china shop, like a bedazzled purple bull.  How quiet our life must have seemed, without you.  You are a stubborn and defiant little thing (I am sure we will battle over your steadfast determination and iron will) still I secretly hope, you do not lose one step of your foot-stomping march.

If Daddy is our rainbow.

Tinkerbell is our floating Pixie dust.

And The Kid, the first warm sunshine of my heart:

You are our Tornado.  A tru-ly awe inspiring phenomenon, demanding attention and yet strangely romantic in your strength and ability. 

I love you entirely, Coco.

I'm still surprised by how much I had not realized, you were the last missing piece to my heart.  You complete our perfect Five Family. 

Happy Birthday, Baby girl.