You're exactly four and a half today. I informed you of this while we lay in bed together this morning. You asked me what that meant and I said that you are halfway to being five. You didn't like this. You said its taking too long. I know where you get your impatience.
No one warned me of this, but four seems to be the year that you lose the rest of your baby ways. You're very much a little girl now. You can sit in a restaurant with daddy or I and carry on a conversation almost like a grownup.
You've also become very self-conscious. You're aware of when we're watching you play and you get embarrassed if we smile. I don't know what to make of this, but I remember doing it as well. I'm sure I'm passing on those hardy insecure genes to you.
You're also quite observant of what other girls around you are wearing or how they talk. You want to grow up and fit in so badly and I just want you to stay safe by my side forever.
I went clothes shopping for you last week and forced myself to bypass the kittens and rainbows and pick up a few things I knew you really wanted, like sparkly tops and distressed jeans. You were so elated when I got home, you had to pull everything out of the bag and try it all on. You said you were happy because now you looked like me. This made me as happy as it did sad.
There are very few words you mispronounce now - pasghetti and waterlemon being my favorites.
I try and purposely misprounounce your newly pronounced words like you used to, "Do you want to go watch a movie at the 'veeter' (theater)?" or "Look at that pretty 'fowler' (flower)".
You don't like this. You think I'm mocking you. So, you're sure to correct me with exasperation.
Your phrases are the funniest. You asked daddy yesterday if the policeman was going to "roll him over" and you love to help daddy "move the lawn".
We've always had lots of pet names for you, but you've recently decided that daddy is to call you 'Monkey' and I can call you 'Bunny Rabbit'. My favorite's always been 'Blue', but I'm only allowed to use it on special occasions now.
And dear, you put the 'drama' in Drama Queen. Your new thing to do after a full day of activity is throw yourself around the house pronouncing this your "worst day ever". If I make a dinner you enjoy though, this is often upgraded to "your best day ever". It's official - you're all girl.
The only time you still remind me of that little baby that was all eyes is when you have your thumb in your mouth and your "memes" to your face. I immediately see those same sleepy blue eyes, the pacifier, the mop of blonde curls on your head. I love to kiss you right where the corner of your mouth meets your thumb.
I know this is a habit you should stop soon and that makes me sadder than you can know.
I love you.