Dear Madeline: December, 2013

Dear Maddie Bear,

At this time tomorrow, Mumma and Dada will be at the hospital waiting for baby sister to arrive.  Therefore, today is your last day as an only child.

I have so many conflicting emotions about the big changes coming to our family.  Mostly I'm excited.  I think you'll love having a little sister.  Maybe not always, but most of the time.  Yet, I'm also a little sad in a way because it's the end of an era.  You've been the only star in our sky for the past three years, and I know bringing a new baby into the mix will be a huge adjustment for all of us.

Dada has been putting you to bed a few nights a week recently to give me a chance to rest.  At first you put up with the change in the routine a little begrudgingly.  Except for the rare occasion, I've always been the one to read you stories, tuck you in, and turn out your light.

Then a few nights ago when I tried to bring you upstairs, you started crying for Dada instead.  Dada's eyes lit up over the prospect of finally being the chosen parent, but my heart sank a little as you clawed your way into his arms and cuddled against him.  You must have sensed my sadness because you turned to me and said reassuringly, "I love you still, Mumma.  I love you," and you gave me a last hug and kiss before going upstairs with Dada.  

Of course I'm happy that you want to spend more time with Dada, but it's hard realizing you don't need me as much now that you're getting older.  Besides, very soon I'll be splitting my attention between you and baby sister, and you'll need to rely on Dada more and more when I can't be there at a moment's notice.

Still, I want you to know that even though my lap may be full with another baby, I'll always make time for you.  That's why I have two arms.  The better to hug you and baby sister with, my dear.

Even though you're getting so, so big, you'll always be our baby.  When we tell you this you usually giggle and say, "Noooo, I'm not a baby!" but Mumma and Dada shake our heads. "Nope, you'll always be our baby...even when we're old and gray," we reply.

Testing out the baby toys!

In non baby sister related news, you're quite the handful, Ms. Madeline.  You have many wonderful qualities.  You are sweet. (Most of the time.)  You are ridiculously smart.  (I know all parents say that, but with you, it's true.) You are musical. (I love listening to you sing around the house!)  But since nobody is perfect, certainly not three-year-old Maddie Bears, you also have your fair share of flaws.  Your biggest flaws, little one, seem to be that you are stubborn and sneaky.

Last week, your teacher asked if we've been having trouble getting you to clean up after yourself at home.  Um, YES?!  We have to lecture, coerce, plead and threaten to get you to pick up those toys.  (Damn you, Legos! So many little parts!) Yet, since you sing the "Clean-up" song from school so often, I was under the very false impression that you were at least doing your share there.

From what I gather, you have two strategies during clean-up time at school.  The first is to dawdle until the Type A children have cleaned up for you. (Smarty pants.)  The second is to disappear.  The teacher overheard you saying, "Quick, let's hide!" to two of your buddies when he announced it was time to clean up the other day.  So not only are you a sneaky mcsneakerson, but you're also trying to drag your friends into these hair brained schemes as well.  I hope this doesn't mean that you're going to be the kid to convince your friends to skip gym class to go smoke weed in the woods instead...

Luckily, we seem to have had a breaktrhough with the cleaning issue.  We spent a few days stressing the importance of helping one's friends and listening to the teacher.  It seems to have worked as you're now taking part in clean-up.   You also put all your toys away last night without a trace of whining or resistance.  You like to make people happy, thankfully, and if we show you how happy it makes us when you clean up, you jump right in.

As for the sneakiness...That's still something we're working.  You were denied a candy cane at 4 am yesterday morning after you woke up and refused to go back to sleep.  "Madeline, where are you going with that?" I asked you as you tried to casually slip under the table with the candy cane behind your back.  "I just have to go over here," you replied as you quickened your pace.

I waited a moment, and sure enough, there came the sound of plastic wrapping being ripped from the candy cane.  I peeked under the table at you, and you threw the candy cane aside innocently, hoping I'd think it just happened to be lying there beside you.

You're a funny one, Maddie Bear, but I guess it's all part of being three.

In spite of these flaws, mostly you're just so awesome that I have a hard time understanding how we got so lucky to have you as a daughter.  Some evidence of your awesomeness?  You made two dinosaurs out of Lego's the other day, and they really did look like dinosaurs.  You wasted no time in throwing yourself into the snow to make snow angels after last week's storm.  You snuck up behind Dada holding the nativity Jesus whispering, "Here comes Creepy Jesus..."  You know most of the lyrics from the Frozen soundtrack even though we only saw the movie once and have listened to the songs just a few times.  You know what an octagon is.  You hug my belly and whisper, "Come out, baby sister."  You asked for a TV in your room even though you're only three.  You announced, "When I get big, I'm going to be a doctor!"  And there are a million other tiny things that you do on a daily basis that make us smile and laugh.

We love you so, so much Madeline Lee.  And we are so, so proud of you.






Love,
Mumma