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Before I get into the details of our travels, I have to take a minute to
reflect on another adventure, one I started two years ago today. Little
Miss.
Two years ago today, Miss came into the world in what turned out to be exactly Her style.
One day before Her due date. She had hung back and waited, and waited, until She was good and ready. Then, once She had made up Her mind, She went forth decisively and undeteribly; storming through labor in a third the time I had expected, and caring nothing for the fact that She was beginning Her headlong entrance to the world in the hospital hallway, rather than the delivery room. (When Miss's internal clock says it's time for something, it's time, and the rest of the universe better fall in line.) But, despite the fact that She had charged into life so quickly that we made it to the delivery room just in time for Her to be caught by whomever happened to be there at the moment, our little March baby came out like a lamb. Quiet as can be and curled into Herself, Her wide eyes searching.
Last weekend we had a little party for Her, themed in flowers because She is our spring girl and also because I feel that, in the last couple of months, She has bloomed into this two year old that we know to be so unique. Her personality is so in keeping with the way She joined us two years ago.
Among Missy's plethora of nicknames is "honeybee". She is a shy, delicate, but sunny and sweet little thing. Who packs a sting if crossed. Missy has a few carefully selected friends to whom She is devoted and loyal, the first of which is always Her sister. After that, everyone is suspicious.
She likes attention from Her Selected Few, but detests the advances of perfect strangers and squirms like an ant under a magnifying glass if made the center of attention. She is a safety-first kind of girl, needing to observe a long time before entering a new situation, and sensitive to any activity that is too loud, too bright, too fast. Already She wars with Her sister over the radio volume. "Too loud!" She exclaims as Little One rocks out to old-school punk in the living room. Like a school marm, Miss marches to the radio with pursed lips and turns the dial. Hands on hips, She nods at Her eye-rolling sister. "That betta."
She likes a peaceful, serene, and predictable universe. Her internal clock is as reliable as the digital. 10am sharp- "I huuungry. Snack time!" 1pm sharp- She better be in Her bed or The Wrath is coming for us all.
She has recently acquired powers of negotiation. "No! My band-aids come off!" She squeals at bathtime, sheltering the colorful strips over Her skinned knees. "No take baf! Um...um...yeah, yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow take a baf, take mine band-aids off. Today no take me a baf....uh, go straight bed. Strait bed, a'stead take a baf." And off She marches, straight to bed. For Miss is a being who knows what She wants and goes for it. If it is too high, too stuck, too forbidden? No problem. A sweet overture will generally coax Her sister into obtaining it for Her. If She's told no? Look out. Either a parent or Her own sweet self will probably end up deciding it's time for a Time Out.
But Missy does love a good Time Out. Sometimes, I am convinced She finds something to hurl across my line of sight just so She can get a nice, quiet, Time Out. Plenty often, She takes Herself there. "Miss grumpy. Take a time out. No bother me."
She has earned Herself a reputation for grumpy. But don't be fooled. It's almost always a sham for overwhelmed, and the famed Missy Grin is lurking just beneath the frowny face, waiting for a brave enough moment to pop out and light the room. Which it does.
At home, where She is safe and sound, Miss is the family comedian. Especially since Her verbal skills have skyrocketed in the last few weeks, She is constantly cracking us all up with Her silliness and age-inappropriate sense of irony, with Her affinity for puns, and Her charming Amelia Bedelia style literality. "No like mine friend Maddy, no way! Why She's so mad? Mad mad mad. This scary me!" But at least Her new conversationalism helps us to sort these things out, and She's become the most fun and adorable sidekick I could ask for.
Still independent, She wants me to play too these days. She has also become the ultimate, ultimate snugglebug. She continues to be obsessed with all things baby, to eat anything I hand Her, and to love counting even more than reading. She loves art of all kinds, and is newly and deeply into playing pretend. She hates to be cold. She hates to wear shoes. But loves to try them on. ALL of them. She worries about Her hair. Refuses to wear a tutu. Can NOT STAND to have Her hands dirty. But has to be reminded to use a fork. She wants to do whatever Her sister is doing, with Her own flair.
She comforts anyone who seems hurt or sad with gentle pats, hugs, and a crooning "Ok! Feel you betta!" And Her heart will break if you reject Her care. She likes to compliment. "Mmmm. This onions really good! So yummy mamma!" "Thank you Daddy, fix mine puppy wif batt-a-ees. You nice Dada." "You earrings! So nice! Look like a prin-sis 'a-day!" "Oooh, look-a-you picture sissy! God job! So nice!"
She has Zero problem with telling me, or J, or the Queen of England "NO" if She means no. Or if She doesn't mean it, but just feels like saying it. She crosses Her arms as I sit Her in Time Out and glowers, "I mad a you mom! NO happy, me. MAD. You big trouble!"
But more often She's begging for cuddles or snuggles, or squishing my cheeks between Her little hands, kissing my nose and smiling, "I wuv you! I wuv you mommy so so so so so SO MUCH." Since the moment I saw Her old-soul eyes look right up at me, two fabulous years ago, I have been thinking exactly the same thing.
Two years ago today, Miss came into the world in what turned out to be exactly Her style.
One day before Her due date. She had hung back and waited, and waited, until She was good and ready. Then, once She had made up Her mind, She went forth decisively and undeteribly; storming through labor in a third the time I had expected, and caring nothing for the fact that She was beginning Her headlong entrance to the world in the hospital hallway, rather than the delivery room. (When Miss's internal clock says it's time for something, it's time, and the rest of the universe better fall in line.) But, despite the fact that She had charged into life so quickly that we made it to the delivery room just in time for Her to be caught by whomever happened to be there at the moment, our little March baby came out like a lamb. Quiet as can be and curled into Herself, Her wide eyes searching.
Last weekend we had a little party for Her, themed in flowers because She is our spring girl and also because I feel that, in the last couple of months, She has bloomed into this two year old that we know to be so unique. Her personality is so in keeping with the way She joined us two years ago.
Among Missy's plethora of nicknames is "honeybee". She is a shy, delicate, but sunny and sweet little thing. Who packs a sting if crossed. Missy has a few carefully selected friends to whom She is devoted and loyal, the first of which is always Her sister. After that, everyone is suspicious.
She likes attention from Her Selected Few, but detests the advances of perfect strangers and squirms like an ant under a magnifying glass if made the center of attention. She is a safety-first kind of girl, needing to observe a long time before entering a new situation, and sensitive to any activity that is too loud, too bright, too fast. Already She wars with Her sister over the radio volume. "Too loud!" She exclaims as Little One rocks out to old-school punk in the living room. Like a school marm, Miss marches to the radio with pursed lips and turns the dial. Hands on hips, She nods at Her eye-rolling sister. "That betta."
She likes a peaceful, serene, and predictable universe. Her internal clock is as reliable as the digital. 10am sharp- "I huuungry. Snack time!" 1pm sharp- She better be in Her bed or The Wrath is coming for us all.
She has recently acquired powers of negotiation. "No! My band-aids come off!" She squeals at bathtime, sheltering the colorful strips over Her skinned knees. "No take baf! Um...um...yeah, yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow take a baf, take mine band-aids off. Today no take me a baf....uh, go straight bed. Strait bed, a'stead take a baf." And off She marches, straight to bed. For Miss is a being who knows what She wants and goes for it. If it is too high, too stuck, too forbidden? No problem. A sweet overture will generally coax Her sister into obtaining it for Her. If She's told no? Look out. Either a parent or Her own sweet self will probably end up deciding it's time for a Time Out.
But Missy does love a good Time Out. Sometimes, I am convinced She finds something to hurl across my line of sight just so She can get a nice, quiet, Time Out. Plenty often, She takes Herself there. "Miss grumpy. Take a time out. No bother me."
She has earned Herself a reputation for grumpy. But don't be fooled. It's almost always a sham for overwhelmed, and the famed Missy Grin is lurking just beneath the frowny face, waiting for a brave enough moment to pop out and light the room. Which it does.
At home, where She is safe and sound, Miss is the family comedian. Especially since Her verbal skills have skyrocketed in the last few weeks, She is constantly cracking us all up with Her silliness and age-inappropriate sense of irony, with Her affinity for puns, and Her charming Amelia Bedelia style literality. "No like mine friend Maddy, no way! Why She's so mad? Mad mad mad. This scary me!" But at least Her new conversationalism helps us to sort these things out, and She's become the most fun and adorable sidekick I could ask for.
Still independent, She wants me to play too these days. She has also become the ultimate, ultimate snugglebug. She continues to be obsessed with all things baby, to eat anything I hand Her, and to love counting even more than reading. She loves art of all kinds, and is newly and deeply into playing pretend. She hates to be cold. She hates to wear shoes. But loves to try them on. ALL of them. She worries about Her hair. Refuses to wear a tutu. Can NOT STAND to have Her hands dirty. But has to be reminded to use a fork. She wants to do whatever Her sister is doing, with Her own flair.
She comforts anyone who seems hurt or sad with gentle pats, hugs, and a crooning "Ok! Feel you betta!" And Her heart will break if you reject Her care. She likes to compliment. "Mmmm. This onions really good! So yummy mamma!" "Thank you Daddy, fix mine puppy wif batt-a-ees. You nice Dada." "You earrings! So nice! Look like a prin-sis 'a-day!" "Oooh, look-a-you picture sissy! God job! So nice!"
She has Zero problem with telling me, or J, or the Queen of England "NO" if She means no. Or if She doesn't mean it, but just feels like saying it. She crosses Her arms as I sit Her in Time Out and glowers, "I mad a you mom! NO happy, me. MAD. You big trouble!"
But more often She's begging for cuddles or snuggles, or squishing my cheeks between Her little hands, kissing my nose and smiling, "I wuv you! I wuv you mommy so so so so so SO MUCH." Since the moment I saw Her old-soul eyes look right up at me, two fabulous years ago, I have been thinking exactly the same thing.
Happy two years in the World, Little Miss.
You really are blooming before our eyes. If I had to call you a flower,
it might be an orchid; something that needs such gentle, specific care.
But grows to be so unique and lovely. What a joy it is to be one of the
gardeners who gets to tend to you, and watch you grow. Just like a
flower, for all the work and worry involved, the beauty you bring to our garden
is more than worth it all. We love you so.
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