Nothing particularly special has happened lately, but it's the little things that strike me. Anna enjoys completing pre-K "workbooks," which isn't so amazing, as she's 4, but it's how much she likes them that gets me. How, even though she doesn't always get the right answer or know how to write something, she wants to learn. She actively asks for help, then repeats it to herself, then asks me to demonstrate, then she reproduces it on her worksheet. She gets that she is being actively taught, like in real school, and she is eager. What I love most about this is how much she reminds me of me.
Emmy's talking has blossomed so much lately, so that most words come out as sentences. Reasonable sentences. She can carry on a reasonable conversation. A silly example, but one that warmed my heart, was the other night, when I was putting her to bed. I gave her a stuffed dog. "No, I need baby." "A baby doll? Okay." "Here's a baby. Snuggle her in." "No, Mommy, tall baby." I'm not sure which charmed me more: that she has a genuine preference for her large, clunky dolls, or that she could use her words to take advantage of me and delay going to sleep.
She is the most empathic child I think I have ever met. Her teachers have mentioned this quality before, that she is the first to run to a hurt child and offer an icepack, a hug, or a kiss to make it all better. But I now see her extending this care to me. She senses sadness, and she tenderly hugs me, nuzzles my neck, and croons, "It's okay, Mommy." If I'm standing, she nuzzles my leg. Her hugs are whole body hugs. She often gently pats or rubs my back while we hug.
Her joy is equally emphatic. Her smiles light up a room, and her squeals of delight to see a new toy, or when approaching a playground, could cheer Tony Hayward.
And her anger is equally emphatic. She has trouble regulating her emotions, which is reasonable for a 2-year old, especially a passionate 2-year old like herself. But when she is angry, she hits, kicks, pulls hair, throws things. When she is frustrated, she gets red-faced, shakes, jumps up and down, and screams. And not just frustrated with a person--she gets frustrated anytime she gets held up. She likes to do things on her own, hard things. She likes to pull dining room chairs into the kitchen. If a chair leg is caught on something, and she cannot pull it, she has this little tantrum, just to herself, yanking and pulling, shrieking and shaking, and and is near tears with frustration until someone comes to help her free the object of desire. These tantrums are adorable to me right now, but I suspect they will become less charming with time. (I am reminded of my father when she does it.)
I have just been really taken with my kids lately. I adore them. And every day is a reminder of a bittersweet fact: they are growing up. It is a classic conundrum. I want them to grow up! quickly! so we can do some cool things already! And yet I mourn the loss of my babies.
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