I had a milestone moment with you at the park today that stopped me in my tracks. You wanted to sit on the “big kid” swing. You said your butt was finally big enough. You sat up there and tried pumping your legs. You were really trying. There was a 4 year old little girl that you had been playing with who was pumping like a pro next to you and I saw your frustration and envy. You wanted to be as good as her so bad! You got mad. But you kept trying. You put your back into it. And still, you are so light that your body weight doesn’t do much. And your little legs…pumping out and under out and under. Rarely in a productive way.
I know you left the park feeling defeated. And we talking in the car about how the other girl is 6 months older than you so she has had 6 whole months of practicing more than you! BUT from now on, every day we are at the park, we are going to practice swinging till you get as high as she did. It’s a deal.
The thing that stopped me in my tracks was I realized we are never using the little swing again and how fast these things change. Not that I miss the little swing, hell no, I have been over that thing forever, but I didn’t wake up this morning wishing you would grow up faster.
The 4 year old’s grandmother asked me how old you were. I said 3.5. She said appreciate it. Because when they get to 4, oh boy, the toddler baby years are definitely over. I asked her if 6 months really made such a difference? I should know this answer by now. It does.
Although living with a threenager makes no logical rational sense most of the time, there is something so incredibly sweet and precious about this age. Your body. Your mind. The things you say. The way you make me laugh.The way your neck smells. Your breath on my face when you sleep with us. A little arm flung over my face.A foot in dad’s back.
There is nothing in this world that matches the sweetness of a child.
When you look at me and touch my face gently and tell me how much you love me.
Worth every insane princess dress change throughout the day.