Confessions of a Domestic Goddess in Training: She's Growing Up!

Monday, May 14, 2018

She's Growing Up!

Oh Girly,

What a quick whirlwind birthday party you had. We were still living in ID and Daddy was about to fly back to work in UT so we had a fast celebration at McDonald's. All you needed was that Happy Meal toy though and you were good to go. I think one of your love languages is gifts, just like Dad. All we have to do is give you a present and you are smiles for days. Plus, your gratitude is extreme. Your birthday was no different. Buckabu and Papa gave you the Corduroy stuffed animal just like the one in the book, Grandma and Grandpa gave you My Little Ponies, and we gave you a doll... I think. I know for sure it was one you picked out at Costco, but I'm at a loss for which one. I was surprised you picked it out because you're not really a doll girl. You love to look at them and display them, but not play with them. You have a bunch of Disney Princess collectibles that you align nicely on your dresser for no one to touch. Sometimes you'll carry them around in your backpack, but that's about it. You are a fan of Monster High dolls though. I think that's because they can sit by you while you watch Monster High on Netflix. Plus, you're a little fascinated by the gruesome. Just a tiny bit. You love IZombie. I let you watch the first season with me (probably not the best parenting decision) and you were sad when we ditched the next seasons. (FYI - the first season was kind of fun, but the following seasons are just super crude. Lame.) I also made another good parenting choice by letting you watch Stranger Things with me. You super duper love it. I love my funny girl!

You talk about growing up to be a mom all of the time. You dream about the makeup you'll wear, the nurturing you'll do, the decisions you'll make, and the knowledge you'll have. You are going to be an incredible mother. You are a little lover. The flu hit our family pretty hard awhile ago and while I ran a quick errand one evening, Moo threw up. You grabbed him a bowl and then a tissue to wipe his nose. When I got home he told me that he was fine because you took care of him. A couple days later when you got the flu Moo didn't return the favor. I walked into my bedroom, saw you puking in a bowl, and then spotted Moo hiding behind my bed. He said he had wanted to help, but you were making horrible noises and horrible smells. So funny.

When we still lived with Buckabu and Papa you wanted to feed your brothers by cooking them some chicken nuggets in the microwave. I input the time for you, showed you where to press start and then said when the timer goes off just take them out. Well, I made the mistake of assuming you knew how to take them out, and as I was busy doing things around the house, you kept adding extra minutes on when the timer went off instead. The chicken nuggets were black. You were devastated, and cried, "Now, I'll never be a mother! I can't even make chicken nuggets!" I assured you that you'd be fine. You still had a lot of time to learn how to cook, and that it was my fault. I then said, plus knowing how to make chicken nuggets isn't a qualifier for motherhood. You're going to be a wonderful mom one day. - Truly!

One of your favorite games to play with the baby is house. Sometimes you're the mom and she's the baby or visa versa. She really likes being your mom. She has a pretty strong personality and you cater to her most of the time. She's a little unpredictable. Smiles one moment, then ninja kicks you the next, or maybe just ninja pinches if that's a thing. You're really good at not returning the favor. Thank you for that. You cry and get sad, give her a good scolding, but you almost never want to hurt her back. You're a pretty cool cat. You do like to cry though. Yes. You. Do. This whole crying thing is a brand new world to me. Oh my. It kills me softly a bit. One day I laid down by you to encourage you to take a nap. I, of course, was the one who began to fall asleep. You stood up and told me you'd be right back. You wanted to assure me I'd be fine and said, "It's okay, Mom. Don't be sad. Don't cry like I do.... alllll theee timmmme." I was like Amen, sister. I took a picture of you crying one day so you could see what you looked like. I thought maybe you'd see how silly it was to turn those water works on so often, but it was almost like it validated your sensitive life. I then took a picture of Dad mimicking your crying face so maybe you'd think he looked ridiculous crying all the time, but you felt just as sorry for him as you did for yourself. So, I give up. I don't get it. I'm not a crier. (P.S. don't get me wrong, I think it's definitely okay for people to cry once in awhile. But you have a gift of shutting it on and then shutting it back off like nobody's business. Pure talent, my girl.)

What you are amazing at is being accountable and then apologizing. This is outstanding for any human being, but especially phenomenal for a four year old. After many a crying episode, or maybe a temper tantrum, you softly approach me and apologize. This is done without any encouragement from me. It's like amidst your emotions you know that you need to calm down, you don't have the mental capacity to reign it in, but you still have the introspection tools afterward to try and fix it. Impressive. A gift really.

You love clothes, you love fashion, you love your cousin Ayla's hand-me-downs. You're all girl! And I adore you!! Like, really, you're one of my favorite pals. Thanks for being my little buddy.

Love, Mom