It’s so obvious that I’m not a true blogger… posting sporadically… starting a post only to come back to it 5 days later in hopes of grasping a little bit of the reality that is my little 4-year-old… at this point in time… alas… this is more for her and me than anyone else but if you’re reading, I hope you enjoy and that some of what I share resonates a little (or a lot) with your own reality is some way.
As I sit here and begin writing, I am looking at the time at the bottom of my computer screen. Four years ago I was holding you in my arms for the first time, taking in your little nose and cute pointy chin, your reddish hair, your lanky limbs and your especially long feet. I don’t think your dad and I had agreed on a name yet and only a handful of people knew that you were officially “here” and no longer wrapped snuggly in my big big BIG belly.
Tonight you’re fast asleep on the bottom bunk in the pink bedroom that you share with your sister Layla. You’ve had a big day kicked off with pancakes for breakfast (as you requested, little miss), some fun with friends at daycare (a cake with marshmallows and chocolate – oh my – and a piñata!), dinner out and a splashing good bath time with your sisters. When I asked you if you had a good day you replied an exuberant, “oh yes!”.
Sweet Meaghan… you are a very special little girl. Quirky. Beautiful. Expressive. Dramatic. Funny. Meticulous. And so much more. While I’ll certainly admit some bias here as your mother, I’m not sure I’ve ever met a little girl with as many facial expressions as you. And it would seem that the older you get, the more complex (and often funny) those expressions become. Mind you – not everyone is privy to these little faces. To most people in the world you give only the “stone face”. Is it because you’re shy? Is it because you choose to be sweet and funny with only a select few? Maybe we’ll never know. I’m starting to consider that you’ve heard us repeat “she’s just shy” enough times that you act as though you are, even if it’s something you’re secretly growing out of. Could it be?
With the arrival of Violet last summer, you lost your spot as baby of our family and that makes me a little sad because I enjoyed your early years so much (still do by the way…but there’s just something about you as a baby that has a special soft space in my heart). Now, as you try to keep up with Layla, I find myself telling you “not yet Meaghan… when you’re older”. But at the same time I find myself often expecting a lot from you and saying, “Meaghan, you’re a big girl, you can do (this, that or whatever)…”. Could it be the plight of the middle child? Being too young and not old enough at the very same time?
You are goofy and ticklish and you love to laugh.
You are shy (as mentioned above) but you adapt so well to new situations and places. When we changed you to a new daycare in the fall I was worried, but despite being a little quiet and reserved, you embraced the change with no fuss, no problems, no complaining… and thank goodness… no tears.
Physically, you are stunning. You’re tall (and lanky enough that your dad and I giggle when you run. Your legs are all over the place!) with long wavy strawberry blond hair (that I love to braid), beautiful blue eyes and a sweet little smile.
(continued on 2013-04-30)
You are… what’s the nice way to say this… “expressive” and “dramatic”. (Please tell me how this fits with a shy little girl?). When you are excited, you glow with that excitement. When you are mad, you fume. When you are sad, you bawl. Ever my little lady of extremes.
You are bright and meticulous. Last year we couldn’t get you to colour very much because you were so frustrated when you coloured outside the lines or when a drawing didn’t look the way you saw it in your head. Now, your daycare “educator” tells me that your drawing and colouring are advanced. Advanced, huh? Nice Megs, nice. But I can’t say that I am surprised, I see you watching your sister and how her colouring and drawing are evolving and I see you trying so hard (and often succeeding) to copy what she is doing.
What else? What else?
You still nap. You love to sing (sometime a little too loudly in strange places… like today when you were belting a song out in the aisle at Costco… next to a man talking on his cell phone. Heeheehee… sorry sir?!) You love love love your new bike. You like almost every food I give you. You often want to be read to and still crawl up in my lap – just because that’s where you want to be.
Over the next several years, I’m sure you’ll challenge me, frustrate me and figure out ways to drive me absolutely crazy. I have a feeling we’ll have many “moments”… good and bad (sigh) but my dear sweet Meaghan… you’re an exceptional little lady and I just know that you’re going to grow into an exceptional young woman. And I will try my best to help you along the way.
I love you sweetie.