“Happy Birthday to Me! Happy Birthday to Me! Happy Birthday Dear Madeleine Rose…Happy Birthday to Me!”

I am Three

It was a grand day for celebration. I am a big girl now. But with age comes some serious responsibility. I need to now brush my teeth, pick up my toys and always use conditioner after shampooing.

My Mama is teaching me how to act like a little lady should–always say things like “please” and “thank-you” and always reminding me that balling up my fist and hitting a doctor square in the face is just not very polite. To all this, I say, “Well excuse me for being rude, but don’t put me in hospital bed right near another sick RSV baby. Don’t stick another darn I.V. needle into my sweet ivory hand and certainly don’t expect me to be lady-like after a night of constant coughing and racking pain.”

And yet, with all the poise, grace and stature I can muster, I vow a true lady I will always be. Wait….this can’t be right. A lady I will ALWAYS be?

Instead, I embrace the words of the saintly Joan of Arc: “I am not afraid; I was born to do this.”