Hello My Beatrice,
You are growing up right before my eyes. Some days I will observe you playing one of your 'tend (pretend) games, blabbing away, hair pulled back into pigtails and I'll wonder where my little baby went. It seems like just the other day you were in my belly and my insides were a mix of excitement, joy, anxiety, wonder, and anticipation of what was around the corner. And today here you are a little person, a little girl of 3 going on 16.
Your imagination is a wondrous thing. Lately you've enjoyed the 'tend you left me game.' In this game you hide and I pretend that I've left you somewhere, usually the last place we went. This week we've been playing 'tend you left me in DC.' I walk around saying "Daddy, have you seen Beatrice. Oh no, where is she? Did we leave her in DC? I have to call Auntie and Uncle David to find out if they know where she is." Then you'll pop out from your hiding place to assure me you are safe and sound. I have yet to figure out why you enjoy this game. Seems to me quite a frightening prospect to be lost but you love it so.
You have also started the "I want a pet" game. Your father and I are anti-pet. We knew before we had kids that the pet thing would one day come up but we never anticipated it coming up so soon. It all started with this book. Since the first day we read it, you've been all about a dog.
When you're not asking for a pet, you are a dancing machine. You have really stepped up your game lately, often breaking out what you call, "the hardest one." You will stop whatever you're doing to bust out a dance move. Usually it involves some kind of balancing on one leg or getting down on all fours. Its quite impressive.
Your competitive streak has begun to manifest itself in many ways. You will often make people go back to back to see who is taller. You make me and Daddy do this all the time and in an attempt to not hurt my feelings you will say sweetly, "You are both tallers." You make me and Miss Barbara go back to back (which is also bum to bum which is quite intimate, I have to say). I wonder if this competitive streak is a case of genetics or just a phase. We shall see.
One area we are dealing with now has to do with your wardrobe. You choose one item of clothing and aim to wear it day after day. You insist on wearing your "Staying up for Santa" pajamas every night. If they are in the laundry, all hell breaks loose. You are also adamant that you will not wear jeans, sneakers, or the color blue. Many battles have ensued over these restrictions. The other day I finally held my ground and tossed you into blue jeans, sneakers, and a blue sweatshirt (the horror!) You did all you could, including walking like Frankenstein, limping, crying, and begging to get out of that outfit, finally proclaiming, "But its not comportable (comfortable.)" I am all for the girly-girly but we have to be equal opportunity with the colors and shoe choices!
Every night when I go to bed, I go into your room to clear away your piles of books and stuffed animals and to pull your covers up over your tiny body. I pat your head and give you a kiss and breathe you in. I walk back down the hallway, turning off the light, feeling that same feeling inside that I felt three years ago. Except this time I am awash in the feeling of complete, inexplicable, unconditional love, a love I never knew existed. Thank you for choosing me to be your mama, precious girl.