Three. Three wonderful, tough, wouldn’t-trade-it-for-anything years with our little beam of sunshine. A 3-year-old seems so little and big to me at the same time. I think the thing has really pushed me to accept that our baby is no longer a baby is her own independence. Every morning she picks out her own clothes, usually a shirt or a dress put on backwards over her pajamas and her cowboys. She’d help me make my coffee with the Aeropress, help me feed Mr.Darcy. She reads her favorite books by herself, plays and makes up games by herself. And she has been excited for school for at least half a year already.
My favorite part of the day, the part I will miss the most when she starts school, are our slow mornings together. We have the best conversations in the morning. She would burst into our room, crawl on top of me and say “wo ai ni” or “I love you” and shower me with kisses. With my eyes still glued shut with sleep and voice still groggy, I’d tell her that I love her, too. Then our “conversations” would usually go something like this actual excerpt:
E: Mama lets talk about balloons. Balloons pop because they are so thin and soft and they pop, like fires. I want to go camping and make a fire.
Mama lets talk about kitties. Kitties can run and jump and hide and play you-can’t-catch-me. I know lots of kitties.
Me: Like who?
E: Like Mr.Darcy. And Mimi and Pinky. And Squirt. What’s that on your shirt?
Me: A heart shape.
E: I like hearts. Let’s make a heart candy.
Me: But do we have the ingredients to make heart candies?
E: Don’t worry! We have a bag of flour! And nectarines and plums and strawberries and bananas and that’s all the ingredients we need to make heart candy. Let’s make it because I want to because I like it.
10 minutes and 20 train of thought topics later…
E: Mama let me tell you about boats. Boats have windows and they also have a kids room and beds and toys. I want to go on a boat with my friend Hazel.
Over the weekend, we celebrated Ellie’s upcoming birthday with some friends and neighbors.