Dear Madeline: April, 2013

Dear Madeline,

Being your Mumma has made me so much more sensitive to the tragedies in our world.  Sometimes it feels like one big, hopeless mess.  But at the same time, you are such a ball of positive light that being your Mumma has also made me more certain of the goodness and love that exists around us every moment of every day.  I hope as you grow older, you can hang on to that sunny disposition of yours in spite of whatever hardships cross your path.

You are such a funny, silly girl.  Tonight you lifted your shirt up to your armpits and did a version of your very own belly dance.  You think it's hilarious to press your forehead to mine so that our eyes blur into one.  You've taken to mooing like a cow for no reason at all.  In the car the other day you told us we should buy a dog and name it Mumma.  You are continuously making us crack up.  

I thought that you had a pretty good vocabulary, but about two weeks ago something clicked, and now you are speaking like a real little kid.  You can explain your reasoning and thought process to us now, which is beyond awesome.

On the way to school this morning, you told us that you remembered going to school with Dada where you watched Mickey Mouse, which was, "so, so scary."  That incident was last summer.  Dada took you to work to set up his room and let you watch Fantasia.  You did not like it.  

Meanwhile, on the ride home from school today you told me that your friend had a pink letter D on her shirt, and that you liked it so much because you love the color pink.  I guess she had blue and yellow letters on her shirt too, but the pink letter D was the best.  

Then in a sad voice you told me that the same friend told you not to wear the color pink anymore last week.  (We've heard this story a lot in the past few days. I guess the schoolyard drama has begun?) I reminded you that you were wearing a pink sweatshirt today, and that you can wear whatever color you want.  That seemed to cheer you up.  You started talking about how both you and your friend were wearing pink today.  "We were the same, Mumma!"

I'm a bit worried that these "fights" with your friends over the clothing you wear is a sign of things to come.  You are quite the vain little nugget.  It's not just that you love staring in the mirror at yourself.  It's the way you make precious little faces at your reflection.  It's as if you're saying, "Hello there, beautiful.  How you doin' this fine afternoon?"  

Of course, you are two, and therefore, not every moment is sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows.  For example, you cried tonight because I made you dinner.  My bad...thought you were hungry.  You pinched me at bedtime this week...twice.  We also caught you muttering, "That's stupid," under your breath.  And you're getting quite bossy.  We're working on manners.

Sometimes trudging up the stairs for the third time in one evening to sing you a lullaby yet again, or to put your pants back on, or to stop you from jumping on the bed is exasperating.  I'm not always patient, but I try to be.  You make life so much better, and I never take that for granted.  

I love you, little bear.

Love,
Mumma