Dear Magnolia & Oliver,
Today you are three. No longer babies but real, honest-to-God kids. I remember so clearly gazing at your amazing faces when you were these tiny, larval newborns and saying "You're so wonderful. You're so wonderful." And you would look back at me and try to focus. And if your eyes managed to rest on mine, I would think you were geniuses. But, believe me, your baby selves can't hold a candle to what you have become.
You are both so loving and funny and smart and affectionate and curious and brave. You know the word "celebrating." You can say "That's a huge spider" in Spanish. When I am having a hard time, you rub my back instinctively. You dance on your tippy toes and like Motown and eat uncooked spaghetti. There is not a bug you are unwilling to pick up.
I am just in awe. In my eyes, the air around you veritably sparkles. Happy birthday. I love you so much.