Happy 3rd Birthday, Anika!

To my goofy, giggly, silly, snuggly Anika,

You are now three years old, and quite the amazing handful. Your laugh echoes throughout the entire house and you are always asking questions, bossing people around, or pretending to be the expert on things. Your smile can melt glaciers and you are full of snuggles.

You are quite the engineer. You can work the Blu-Ray and the iPad better than I can. You can build huge towers with your blocks, draw pictures of triangles and circles and squares (you are definitely left-handed), and you insist - INSIST - on doing everything yourself. You can't tie your shoes yet, but if mama attempts this because we are running late, you undo the ties and dive in with the concentration of a physicist as you attempt to tie them yourself. You put on your own shoes and socks and pajamas. You take apart key fobs and nail clippers and necklaces and hair bows and magic wands and pens and doll houses and zippers. You've removed all the whiskers from your Angelina Ballerina doll because, well, once you pulled on one and discovered it moved, you had to figure out what else you could do with it. All of our lift-the-flap books contain more tape than book. When unwrapping your birthday presents, you had to remove every last bit of paper before actually seeing what the present was (with the noted exception of the Angelina Ballerina doll house. THAT you saw right away and screeched and smiled with your whole body and wanted the dang box opened, like, YESTERDAY).

You are quite the artist. You love painting, especially - your preschool teacher said you are the first to start painting and the last to quit, and your art projects from school are always heavy with paint because you are so enthusiastic about the process - and one time you had drawn all over the walls and boxes and displays at the Disney Store with a pilfered Minnie Mouse pen before I caught you. Our kitchen door has been covered in crayon, paint, marker and pen, and lately you have taken to carrying a book and pencil with you wherever we go, making notations as you pass things that interest you.

You are a princess superhero. You like to wear your little princess plastic heels and your princess gloves and necklaces and bracelets and dress-up dresses and tiaras, and you like to carry a purse filled with said items (plus a pen or two and some bits of paper) just about wherever we go. You place a tutu on top of nearly every outfit and insist on wearing your headbands low on your forehead, like a 21st century flapper. An enthusiastic, optimistic do-gooder, you are always reminding us that "it's ok, I fix it," or "it's ok, I did it last night" (everything, from yesterday to last week to dinner three hours ago is "last night") or "it's ok, don't be mad mama! smile!" It's hard to be in a bad mood if you're around and not tired or hungry or melting down because you're tired or hungry.

You can be a bit of a meanie when it comes to your brother. You straight-up slap him in the face sometimes, unprovoked, or squish and pinch his face to make "funny faces" or hit him in the head with a bat or scratch him hard on his back or shove him so he falls flat on the floor. You don't like it that he is starting to fight back a bit, and starting to toughen up and not cry as much when you do pick on him. You hate time-out and are especially enthusiastic about time-out rules and regulations when it's Reni who gets put in time-out. But you save your biggest smiles and giggles for Reni, and you spend a lot of time chasing each other around the house, laughing hysterically. You are very good at sharing and are always happy to share even your beloved chocolate (see below) with Reni -- unless it's mama's lap - then you are NOT about the sharing.

You are a leader. The kids in your preschool are always talking about you and telling their parents about you (I know because they corner me in the preschool hallway and say, "Did you know that Ani and Christopher were holding hands," or "Katie wants Anika to get the book we bought for the book exchange," or "Malaya and Kai were fighting to sit next to Anika at story time.") One of the boys in your class actually slept with your birthday invitation, which had a big picture of you on it, and would proudly tell his mom that this was his "map to Anika's house." You once led a posse of kids to take on a bully who wasn't letting anyone into the play house at the school playground. You will run up to kids who you don't know - at the mall, at the doctor's office, at a restaurant - and invite them to play, giggling and holding their hands and making up all sorts of imaginary games.

You love chocolate above just about anything else. If I need to bribe you, which happens quite often, I do it with chocolate. You are such a skinny little thing that I don't worry about repercussions.

You have so many people that love and adore you, and none more than your mama and daddy. We still can't believe how you light up our lives. Happy birthday, my princess superhero. We love you THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS much (plus a lot more).