You are four years five months old today and this is the first of many monthly letters to you. I've been wanting to take this letter writing thing on because:
1) you say alot of very clever things that I am not clever enough to remember to write down
2) you are constantly challenging me and your dad every single day and I must capture your negotiating skills on paper
3) I want you to have proof that you turned my world upside down...so you'll understand why I am so clingy
4) I need you to know I love you more than "to Yew Nork to California" as you've been saying recently.
Yesterday you went to dance class. I made the wise decision to put you in the late class this year because you and I are not morning people. If we're forced to get up too early we end up making each other cry before we even get out the front door.
You love to put on your leotard and back up to me in the bathroom, holding rubberbands in your little hand, full of demands of how you want your hair.
You love to walk the cobblestone wall after every class while enjoying the sucker the teacher gave you. Your whole face is lit up after you dance. Your pink cheeks flushed, you are downright jolly and ready for the day.
Grandma Cathy showed up after your class to surprise you. It was a last minute visit, so I didn't tell you. We couldn't wait to see your reaction. You started to run for the cobblestone as always and as you reached the wall, you saw her standing there and did a double take. You immediately turned around and looked at me, as if to say 'Is this happening?". Grandma reached out to hug you but you continued to jump up on the wall as planned! Grandma was hurt, but you needed to finish what you started. That wall wasn't going to walk itself!
After the wall walking was complete, you threw your arms around her. I found it funny that I had predicted you would react to her sudden appearance the way you did - delayed joy because you weren't prepared.
Dad took you to see Curious George and then bought you the stuffed animal after. You have been so taken with George that you had to immediately undress him (a sure sign that he's loved) and take him with you for your nap.
You are obsessed with games. EVERYTHING is a game these days. You constantly ask "Do you think I can run this fast/pick this up/throw this far/read this word?" We're not allowed to show faith in you. You get upset if we say we think you can. You want to prove us wrong.
The other day you begged me to play a video game with you. I put it off until it was almost bedtime. When dad went to unhook the Tivo to set up the game, I realized that it was going to stop recording my favorite show. I stared at you. You stared at me. I told dad to go ahead and pull the plug on Tivo.
"You can see it later" you said hopefully.
"No, it's only on tonight" I responded.
You started to cry. "I'm sorry mommy" you said.
I was shocked at your empathy. You actually felt guilty. I, of course, told you it was no big deal and I would rather play with you.
But, as I lay in bed that night I thought of how your reaction is yet another indication that you're growing up. Into such a loving little girl.
I love you,