My Funny Girl
You drive me nuts. Do you know that? Several times a day, I’ve come so close to putting my head through drywall because of you.
And then I hear your husky, toddler voice say, “Hey. Don’t worry dude. I got this.”
That’s when I half-snort, half laugh
Yes you got it, don’t you?
I can’t stay angry.

Always Looking Forward.
Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I know why you were born three weeks early. You became bored and decided you had enough of this place, it was time for you to meet the big wide world.
Did anyone tell you you weren’t fully cooked?
Did you care? I think you were a bit alarmed at the sudden discovery of complete helplessness, but you had faith that we were going to be there for you.
Good call Hun.
You have always had an eye on the horizon, you have always looked forward.
You march forward blindly, boldly and without fear of what’s over there.
You are nearly always bored by what you find when you get there. But I don’t see you worrying, I see your eyes are already fixed on the next horizon.
Would you mind holding up for a moment and let an old man catch up?

Your Terms
You insist on defining the world. You have always found the idea of the world defining you as offensive. I’m not about to give you any advice in this area, I will say you will live a frustrating life. That’s okay, some people were born to be frustrated, frustration can be an incredible fuel for doing incredible things, and I am certain you will be doing incredible things.
Frustration creates pearls after all.
I am blown away by your blind confidence, you have convinced yourself that you know all you need to know, you have convinced yourself that you are capable of doing all the things that us grownups can do.
Sometimes I get to witness you experiencing a joy of discovery and realization that is completely oblivious to the bold proclamations made seconds before. Other times I watch you shake your fist and curse at the limitations of your tiny body.

It’s not easy being little, is it?
You resent your age and your size, such maddening restrictions put upon such grand aspirations and ambitions.
You are so independent and so decisive. You know what you want and you aim (pretty much always inaccurately) to do so, often at the risk of outright disobedience. More often than not, I watch you biding your time, waiting til you believe I’m not looking and I watch you go ahead with your forbidden plan. I bark one harsh “No!” and I watch you trying to casually play it off like you had no intentions of doing such a naughty thing! (Did I mention you’re my funny girl?)
Once in a while you turn bold and you’ll disobey me – right in front of me. You don’t necessarily do this with blatant defiance. You calmly tune me out, you ignore me and you continue doing whatever it was you were planning on doing.
You are going to do incredible things, possibly horrible things, but incredible nonetheless.
How do I punish you? You endure your punishment, and you return to your plan. Every hill is the hill to die on. Every day. Sometimes I swear you’re saying, “It’s okay Dad, I had that punishment coming. I’ll take it. Doesn’t matter, I’m still going to do what I was going to do.”
How do I break your stubborn defiance without breaking your spirit? It seems like such a fine line. You have taught me that rage and laughter can indeed happen at the same time.
Is this the first step toward insanity?

I’m still figuring you out, I look in your eyes and I see an ancient sense of rebellion, of defiance; I see a quiet, practical intelligence. I see old wisdom. Yeah, you look around your world, you may not know the nuances – yet. But you get it. Don’t you? You don’t mention it, you don’t need to. You seem pretty comfortable with keeping them all guessing.
So hungry, so eager, so ready to get out there and explore, push buttons, climb. Break the chains, any chain you find yourself bound by, real or imagined, it doesn’t matter.
You feel no need to prove yourself to anyone. You consider yourself proven already, you are who you are, and if someone doesn’t like it, you shrug it off and keep moving forward.
Don’t stop moving, Little One. Never stop moving. Keep being a force of nature. Keep being unbroken. Never let the world break you.
I know, it’s going to break me in the process, but I’m your Dad—it’s a given that the process of Fatherhood in some way, shape or form will kill the Father, but not before he gets to witness and experience more life than he ever imagined he would see before he took on the title.
Yes Sweetie, you will kill me, but watching you grow makes the life before my final moment worth it.

And then we approach bedtime. I collapse on the couch, a broken man, a destroyed man, exhausted and spent. I am tired of saying “Reggie…No.” I am tired of chasing you around, just give me a moment, one little moment of peace.
And…it looks like I will be denied that peace, our eyes just locked, you’re going for me. I brace myself and I am pleasantly surprised to feel that hard little head nuzzled against my chest, your fine downy-like hairs tickling my nose every time I inhale.
“I wuv you Daddy…”
“I Love you too Hun, I Love you so much that I swear my seams are about to burst.”

My funny, ambitious, stubborn and defiant little sweetheart turns three today! You’re not really noticing that, are you? You’re too busy looking to the horizon, to your fourth birthday.