Lanie Lou.

The first few months of Lanie's life were my hardest as a mom. She wasn't sleeping, didn't nurse well, and rarely smiled... and I took it personally. I told Shawn, "I don't think she likes me" when she'd light up around complete strangers after staring me down all day.

Fast forward through three years and a corrected tongue tie and Lanie and I have a bond I couldn't have dreamed of. She prances around the house just steps behind me and often reminds me, "We're the only girls, Mom... we gotta stick together." We do, my Lou. We sometimes ask her if she's our Prickly Pear, when she's choosy about when and to whom she shows affection. But more and more often, she'll cuddle up in my lap just after she wakes up, her face covered in wavy blonde hair, and nestle into my neck.

Lanie loves makeup and nail polish and wrestling with her brother. The color pink and the most ferocious dinosaurs. Playing tea party and climbing trees. She fills the tiny space between two brothers with brightness and spunk and easily holds her own. She's constantly singing a song and we think she may be our most creative kid.

I knew I'd adore her (and did even when she cried all night long), but had no idea that at three, she'd be just so easy to love.