A couple of weeks ago, you turned three years old. How in the world are you already a preschooler? There's so much going on in your world these days that I hardly know where to start. So let's begin with the gross, after a peek at your happy, smiling for the camera face.
For four nights running recently, you had either a nosebleed or an escaped poop. That's a lot of laundry but, more so, a lot of worry. Your first ever nosebleed didn't bug you, but it made your pretty little bed look like something out of CSI. After being reassured that the occasional nosebleed is pretty common among tiny people who are starting to, ahem, explore their nasal regions, we relaxed a bit. And then there was the poop. As you started potty training in earnest, you became resistant to keeping your diaper on at bedtimes, wanting instead to change yourself. Needless to say, this helpful maneuver had pretty messy results. Fortunately, as you became more determined to use the potty, you also became slightly less resistant to keeping a diaper on overnight, and we've had little reason to do emergency sheet changes in a while.
You're still one super-affectionate kid. You were out at the playground with Daddy recently and brought me a flower from your walk back (and asked your first "why" question when I said we should put it in water!). You started saying, "I love you, Mama, have a good sleep!" as you headed off to bed and naptime. You've also become a real hugger - us, your grandmothers, your friends at school, and, best of all, your baby sister.
Sometimes, you're just plain weird about the hugging. We were at the mall a few weeks ago, in a kids' clothing store with readily-accessible mannequins in the window. You fell in love with these kid-sized mannequins and started going from one to the next, hugging them in turn and counting them. In Spanish.
You're also developing real live manners, understanding that there's a nice way to ask for things and doing so without (always) being prompted. You routinely engage now in please-thank you - you're welcome exchanges, and you remarkably have learned to ask for something by saying, "May I please have..." Of course, your little age-appropriate freakouts interfere with your becoming a tiny Miss Manners, but I think a tiny Miss Manners would be pretty weird and probably not a little annoying.
I love watching you explore new skills and interests, too. You can now use a mouse and "play" computer games designed for your age group (and attention span). The Dr. Seuss A-B-C game is your current favorite, and you readily navigate the letters, choosing your favorite rhymes and songs easily. A sign of the times - my preschooler is fully versed in pointing and clicking! You sing a lot - nonsense syllables, descriptive recitatives of your daily activities as they're unfolding, your version of the church choir anthems as we rehearse on Sunday mornings, you name it. I love it all, but especially your "doodle-oodle-oodle-ooo" as you putter around the house, doing your thing.
You started a soccer class with Daddy last month, too, and it's so amazing to see you being taught and (literally) running with the basic concepts of the game. You have little Nike wear, sneakers that light up when you walk, and a snazzy blue and silver soccer ball. If there were a preschool world cup, baby, you'd be a starter. You do have your klutzy moments, though, as when you recently found out the hard way that you are now as high as the doorknob.
You are delighting in Tessa even more than the last time I wrote to you! She's sitting up, reaching for things, and laughing, and you are her favorite entertainment. When you ask her questions in a sign-song, rising intonation, she just goes bananas. And the more she laughs, the more you laugh, creating a cycle of increasing hilarity. You leave Tessa's actual care and feeding to Daddy and me for the most part, but one recent venture into this area absolutely killed me. You climbed up onto the rocker in Tessa's room, outfitted in a t-shirt and your purple tutu, and asked to hold Tessa. As we set about getting you properly posed to do so, you modified your request: "Want to feeeed Tessa, Mama." And pulled up your t-shirt on one side in a perfect imitation of a nursing mom.
Bedtime is one of the most challenging and most satisfying parts of the day for me where you're concerned. When you're tired, you can throw incredible tantrums, fighting us off at every turn when we try to get you to brush your teeth or get into your pajamas. But when you do finally realize that bed is a most excellent place to be, it's just bliss. You require stories, but we often read in parallel. You tell me which book I should read, and you explain that you'll be reading a different book. Then, while I read my book out loud to you, you patter along with the book you're reading, drifting away from it whenever the plot of my book becomes more compelling to you. For a while, you were leaving your room after lights out, and we would hear you taking exaggerated tip-toe steps through the hall way and to the gate at the top of the steps. Then you'd just stand there and breathe until we claimed you and returned you to your bed. On really rough nights, I ask if you'd like me to snuggle with you for a few minutes. You nod, and I wedge myself into your toddler bed next to you, nose to nose with you while you just stare into my eyes, sometimes tapping my nose with your index finger or patting my shoulder. Just to be sure of me. And I stay just a few minutes longer than I really should...just to be extra sure of you.
Love,
Mama
0 comments:
Post a Comment