48 Months

Dearest,

Today you turn 48 months old. That’s 4 years if you don’t want to do the math. I wouldn’t know the months if I hadn’t been counting them all this time.  Four years is a long, short time. By that I mean that sometimes I look at you and I can’t even remember you as a baby – you seem so fully formed and mature. And then I blink and am stunned to see you opening the baby gate by yourself or using words like actually and specifically in the correct context. How did that happen? I was just rocking you to sleep the other night. (You still say cute things though. Like “bump beds” instead of bunk-beds.  I’ve been corrected more than once!)

Right now, at this moment (and for the last few months) we’re in the midst of contradiction. It’s your age, I know. You’re stretching, pulling and working those boundaries. Finding out if you can trust me to hold firm and keep you safe. But, oh, it is testing my fortitude. I worry that I’m too lenient, I worry that I’m too harsh, I worry that you have turned from a happy child to one that is unhappy more often than not. I worry.

But, as I’m reminded by your dad and Mamo and Papa, you ARE happy. You’re brilliant and funny and precocious and intense. It’s the intensity that is exhilarating and frustrating and, I guess, we’re learning how to navigate it together. We butt heads, we engage in power struggles and lose our tempers (I’m sorry about that) and pout.

But…AND

…we are SO in love. We hug each other fiercely and cuddle without reserve. I kiss your face and you snuggle into it and giggle. You tell me silly things and we laugh and spin crazy circles to the piano music you’ve specifically chosen. You are like a fairytale come to life; all heartache and whimsy and perfection and beauty and love.

You exhaust me and yet fill me with energy. I get excited about all of the things we are going to do together – crafts, library trips, baking and reading. And every night, once you’re safely in your bed, I sit down and I’m tired. Because ¼ of that excitement (and the fact that kids have to eat and WHY do kids have to eat?! If I didn’t have to feed you all the time it would be so much easier!) takes up all of my energy and I wonder how even a fraction of the ideas we have will ever get done. But then we start over the next day and have grand adventures once again.

Daddy just came downstairs and said “Our daughters really trust us. It’s so amazing.” It IS amazing and such a privilege. Thank you for that and we will continue to work on earning it.

We love you so much precious girl.

Love,

Mommy