Dear Maddie Bear: November, 2013

Dear Madeline,

Forgive me for being a little late with your letter this month.  I'd like to blame it on the postage service, but it's really because your poor mumma's brain has been misplaced.  I may have left it at the obgyn's office last week, or maybe on top of the photocopy machine at work.  You see, in my world, it's still the first week of November.  It's really the middle of the month though, which means this could be the last letter I write to you before you become a big sister.

 Maddie Bear, my darling, you have been so very, very three the past two weeks.  People have warned me for years that three is a tough age.  Those people were right.  You do not follow directions well.  You are stubborn.  You scowl and pout most of your waking hours.  You've stopped talking and have instead invented your own language consisting of various whining noises and grunts.

A big problem we've been dealing with is your adoration of the iPad.  We let you use it on occasion, but now every time you see it, you ask for it, which obviously leads to many tears.  When we do let you use it, you cry when your time is up.  You shed giant, sorrowful tears, and sob for Olaf...the only person bear in the world who can truly understand just how mean your parents are.  I guess this is parenting in the age of technology...

I'm not sure if this difficult phase has to do with all the big changes you sense happening around you, or if it's simply a three-year-old thing.  My guess it's a little of both.  Either way, you're seriously testing the patience of both your parents.  Normally I'd turn to wine in times like these, but I'm too busy incubating your baby sister to find any relief.

Luckily, you're also adorable and funny, so we don't stay angry with you for long.  I so enjoy listening to the things that come out of your mouth.  Conversations with you are the best.  I never know where they'll lead.  The other day we started talking about the baby and ended the conversation talking about how it's good to try square cookies but not green eggs and ham.  You sing all the time.  This afternoon you propped a book up on the top of your toy piano and sang the story at the top of your lungs while banging on the keys.  

You're starting to get excited for Christmas, but still don't seem too sold on the whole Santa idea.  We saw him at the mall, but you hid behind my leg and scowled when he waved at you.  We talked about him bringing us presents on Christmas Eve, but you seemed freaked out by the idea of a strange man in our house while we're sleeping.  We'll see how this year's visit to the jolly man in red goes.

This is the first year you can tell us what you want for Christmas.  You've made very few requests, which is nice.  However, you did ask for a toy version of Chili's restaurant for your princess Little People.  I don't think Santa makes that in his workshop.  Sorry, Maddie Bear.

We finally set up your big girl bed this afternoon, and as you can see from the photographs, you were thrilled!  You look so tiny in it!

I was a little apprehensive about letting you sleep there tonight.  We haven't received the rails yet, so I was worried you'd fall out.  For the time being, we removed the box spring to keep you low to the ground, and I surrounded the bed with giant pillows to break any falls.  I was also worried that you'd be so excited that you'd bounce around for hours.  Instead, it took you about ten minutes to fall asleep.  Maybe this big girl bed will solve our bedtime issues...but I'm not holding my breath.

I'm so very proud of you, Madeline.  Even with the attitude, temper tantrums, and strange noises you make, I'm still convinced that you're the smartest, sweetest, and best little girl on the planet.

Love you to the moon!

-Mumma Bear