My big little girl. The best big sister the world's ever seen. There is so much love in heart, so much to give to others, my pride in her is overwhelming.
In so many ways, she's your typical four-year-old. Whiny. Moody. Unpredictable. She hurts easily, forgets quickly, has the voracious mind to learn about everything and the attention span of a goldfish.
Then are so many times I have stop and remind myself, "she's only four" - she's so mature, so independent. She can do so much for herself, by herself - it's easy to think she doesn't need me.
But she does need me. Better than that, she wants me still. I am still the awesome-in-her-eyes Mom I've been for awhile. I impress her with my song choices, my knowledge of everything foreign to her, my stories. She asks so many questions; I have so many answers. It's just a fun age and time to be living in right now with her.
School has been the absolute most amazing thing to happen to this girl - she's a lover of learning, of structure, routine and expected outcomes. In the last eight months, she has "grown" so much, the transformation is astounding. I love to watch her write her name. Listen to her count. Hear her sound out words in her books. Identify animals and money and all the little things that feel so second-nature, I forget that I, too, once had to learn all these things for the first time. Her mind just amazes me; I can't wait to see how she grows and continues to learn down the road...
She's still got that wild mane of hair I love so much - unmanageable and free as the breeze. Full of volume, curls hanging all around. She's been blessed/cursed with a fabulous head of hair. And just like me, she hates for anyone to touch it. Don't brush it. Don't put it up. Don't wash it. Just let it be.
And so I do. Because I get it. I do try to keep it full of conditioner and keep the nasty tangles out. Other than that, I just let her hair do its thing. Because it's going to no matter what I try to do.
You can't help but love this kid. She's pretty much perfect, and all her flaws only compliment her personality. Every year I keep saying, four is so much better than three. Three was so much better than two. Two was obviously better than one.
It just keeps on getting better, sweeter, easier. I feel confident in her and in me. I know I'm a good, capabale, loving mom - she's my living proof. I can do this (this parenting thing) - I haven't scarred her too much. I haven't ruined her life.
Although I'm sure by the time she's fourteen, that'll be a different story.
Until then, she is my light. My ever-growing love and spirit.
My Sidney Morgan.
;) so sweet, i love these updates. She's going to love to read them at fourteen, even though she'll act like she hates it!
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