Monday, September 13, 2010

Maddie: 44 Months

Dear Sweet Maddie,

Welcome to 44 months, my dear. Four is just around the corner! This month has been a big one, full of exciting changes and some hard times, too. Through it all you have continued to be your observant, talkative, questioning, joyful, and (mostly) stable self. You are incredibly resilient and mature.

So you started school. That's a big change, and a welcome one. We always joke that you came out of the womb ready for school. You are an active and engaged learner. You soak up information like a sponge. You are full of interesting facts (think Jerry Maguire kid) and never fail to impress me with new knowledge. Like today, when you informed me at the park, "These are rose hips. You can eat them; they are FULL of vitamins." Another horticultural fact garnered from your times with Boppa. You absolutely LOVE telling me things I don't know. Yeah. Hmm.

You are full of life and full of energy. Most mornings you wake up, run into our room (often throwing back our door with such zest that it flies into the adjoining wall, rousting us from slumber), and start talking. You have so much to say that you must start as soon as there is daylight, and you continue all the way up until you lay your head down at night. You still get frustrated with us when we don't have the answers. You want these answers and you want them now.

You are also so independent, buttoning jammies and putting on socks and shoes, getting yourself an apple from the fridge or water from the sink. You help with chores and actually do a decent job folding clothes. You master tasks with quickness and ease, to the extent that when you don't get something right away, it is very frustrating. All of the sudden you are saying things like, "I'm the worst chick draw-er ever!", throwing your arms up in disgust, and dramatically stomping away. We do our best to foster an environment where expression is valued over precision, but you are definitely showing Type A tendencies.

You are creating all kinds of art these days, asking almost daily to work on a "project." This summer has been full of markers and scissors, paper and pens, paints, playdough, crayons and crepe paper. You have a desire to create and come up with all kinds of things to adorn our walls (and those of your grandparents). The other day you set to work on a "masterpiece," (Thanks Fancy Nancy) drawing Daddy, then Mama, Sam and then Hanalei. Twenty minutes later and you were still adding people to your family picture: Uncle Joe, my cousins, Grace, Lizzie and Lijah, and here's Kelly and Nicole ("She's my bestest friend in the whole world, you know.") It still sits on our kitchen counter and I wouldn't want it any place where I can't just marvel and smile each time I walk by.

All our visits to the pool this summer have turned you into a fish. You are crazy in that pool. It all started a couple weeks ago when you started holding your breath in the bathtub. Next thing we knew, you were diving in the pool, asking Daddy to take you under on his back, staying under for several seconds, and then repeating everything until we finally pulled you out, wrinkled fingers, soggy drawers, and all. You are obsessed and ask to go each day. If only I had as much drive and determination!

The month has also been hard. You've asserted yourself. Many times. You've thrown tantrums at a mere mention of the word "No." You've pleaded and please-please-please'd your way through many a conversation. Then there was the time you threw yourself down in a sobbing, screaming heap. Outside Lunardi's. In the middle of the day. Hmm. That was interesting. All this to say, you are a girl who knows what she wants. You are strong and secure and need the world to know that.

But through it all, you're still my Maddie girl. You still love to run into my arms, yelling "Mama!" You still love to snuggle in our bed in the morning, wiggling your way between Daddy and I and giving us sweet, warm kisses. You treat your brother with such tender kindness that it moves me to tears. You still approach quietly and broken at times, asking for "Mama time." In so many ways you are grown up, yet in so many ways still a very little girl. And you're my little girl.



1 comment:

mel @ the larson lingo said...

"Four is just around the corner" heart just broke a little bit! That sounds so old! Why do our babies have to grow up?