I never want to forget what she’s like right now. Three years, nine months. Feisty. Nurturing. Occasionally neurotic. Always sweet.
She calls me little mama and tells me “I love you all day” at random intervals. She takes great pleasure in rubbing cocoa butter on my burgeoning belly. She thinks she might have a baby in her own tummy. She takes her baby dolls into the bath with her. She doesn’t like to wear pants or socks. She adores her grandmothers. She has best friends, and might I say, she has excellent taste in friends. She likes to wear her hair in a singular braid. She doesn’t like pony tails on top of her head. She wants to read Cinderella every night at bedtime. She wants to learn to read. She eats green smoothie popsicles in abundance, but not green smoothies. She loves salad with olive oil and nutritional yeast, but not any other salad. She prefers her lentil soup cold. She hates “broken” food. She loves hot dogs without the bun and macaroni and cheese and every kind of fruit. She is religious about taking her gummies (vitamins). She doesn’t nap, but she goes to bed early. She loves to swing at the playground. She is very adept at using the DVD player and the iPad and the iPhone. Sometimes she won’t let me kiss her. She climbs into our bed on a nightly basis, and I’m glad to see her though I don’t know what’s going to happen when baby sister arrives. She knows her way around the library. She’s not crazy about swimming lessons. She can run very fast. She doesn’t like to sit while she’s eating, or ever. She always wants to know “what happens next?” to the point that I often have to map out the entire week for her. If we’re in the car for a long time, she says, “it’s taking longer!” She asks so many questions, especially at bedtime. She makes a gentle humming sound when she’s filled with delight that fills my heart with joy. She never stops moving. She never stops reminding me that life is beautiful.