Dear Maddie Bear,
You are now officially four and a half. In six short months you will be five, and that's such a hard concept to wrap my brain around that I may never believe it.
A part of me wishes I could keep you four in my mind forever, but that's impossible. Every few months I stop to realize that the younger version of you has vanished, and you have become a completely different person. I can see it when I look at old pictures, some just taken a few months ago, and I'm startled to see how much you've grown. Then I realize that there are funny little games you used to play that no longer amuse you. Words you used to say wrong get corrected and replaced. Memories of places we went or things we did vanish from your mind. Finally, I accept that the little girl in the photograph is gone forever, and I get a bit sad. I understand, for a brief second, why every old lady in the grocery store stops to remind me of how fast it flies by.
Luckily, though you change so fast, the new versions of you just keep getting better and better.
A part of me wishes I could keep you four in my mind forever, but that's impossible. Every few months I stop to realize that the younger version of you has vanished, and you have become a completely different person. I can see it when I look at old pictures, some just taken a few months ago, and I'm startled to see how much you've grown. Then I realize that there are funny little games you used to play that no longer amuse you. Words you used to say wrong get corrected and replaced. Memories of places we went or things we did vanish from your mind. Finally, I accept that the little girl in the photograph is gone forever, and I get a bit sad. I understand, for a brief second, why every old lady in the grocery store stops to remind me of how fast it flies by.
Luckily, though you change so fast, the new versions of you just keep getting better and better.
You're such a great kid, Madeline. You really are. You're funny, smart, and considerate of others. You're curious about everything. Your imagination astounds me. And you're just so, so lovely. Three was a tough age full of doubt and drama and tantrums. Four, so far, has been just wonderful.
You started dance lessons again this winter, and you love it. Your class is a combination of ballet and tap, but you like tap better. You listen to the teacher and follow along beautifully. Watching you dance every Saturday morning is one of the highlights of my week because you have such fun with it.
You're reserved around other children and adults. While the other little ballerinas hold hands and chat away at the teacher, you mostly keep to yourself. It's not that your shy. You're friendly, and you ask the teacher for help when you need it. You just tend to keep your distance.
I've noticed the same pattern at school. You love your teachers. You love your friends. You come home with a million stories of the games you played. But, while the other kids run to give the teacher a hug as soon as they enter the room, I have to prod you to even say hello. By the time I pick you up, you've warmed up and are bouncing around with the rest of the kids. It seems like you'd just rather observe the situation carefully before diving in for the fun.
Meanwhile, you never stop talking at home. In the car, the random questions and observations sometimes come so fast that I don't have a chance to even reply. There's just a steady stream of Maddie Bear chattering from the backseat.
You've become quite the Taylor Swift fan. We listen to her in the car, and you know all the lyrics to all of her songs. If we're tired of Taylor Swift, you request Disney music. You still like classical music and show tunes. You do not like the Beatles, which is sad.
It's been a long winter of being couped up indoors. You've developed the habit of running around in circles every evening around 5 pm. It's as if all the energy in your little body can no longer be contained, and you just have to run.
You're a great big sister. You help me take care of Vivienne. You give her hugs and hold her hand at the library so that she can't run away from Mumma. Sometimes you get upset when you have to share your toys or when she tries to eat your food. It's understandable. We're working on ways to distract her from your toys instead of shrieking at her when you get frustrated. You still like to treat her like a dog sometimes by making her play fetch or trying to trap her in a box/ doghouse. But mostly, you guys are great together.
You ask for alone time most days, and we try our best to give it to you. You can shut yourself in the playroom where Vivi can't bother you. The entire time you're in there, we hear high-pitched talking from the other side of the door as you play with your dolls. Vivi lays on her belly and tries to peer under the door at you.
We let you stay up late to play games or watch a movie with Mumma and Dada every now and again. We watched Big Hero 6 last week. Toward the end, you looked a little scared, so I asked if you wanted to stop the movie. You said yes and climbed right into bed with your eyes open wide in fright. I felt like a terrible mother. We traumatized you by forcing you to watch a superhero cartoon with us.
You're still working on your letters and how to write. You were reluctant to learn for a long time. I think you sometimes have trouble figuring out which hand to write with. You're a lefty when you write, but a righty for almost everything else. I downloaded a preschool app that lets you practice writing, but you use your right hand on the screen instead of your left. It's very interesting to watch.
Meanwhile, you're drawing like a fiend all of a sudden. For the longest time, you would just scribble colors without trying to make any pictures. Now, you draw people and houses and dogs. I love it. Last week you drew me the solar system and some black holes because you're learning about space at school. Then you drew a picture of the two of us, complete with "sun kisses" (freckles). It's awesome.
We went to get your haircut last week. You decided that you wanted bangs like your cousin, so we gave it a try, and you look so much older. The shorter hair is a bit curlier and unruly, but you look adorable.
I brought you to see Cinderella over the weekend to celebrate your half birthday. It was a long movie, and you got a little fidgety toward the middle, but you were a good girl and stayed in your seat the whole time. It's always a treat to have time just with you.
You've been playing Cinderella since we saw the movie, but you like to pretend to be the stepsisters. You made Vivi be Cinderella the other day and bossed her around. Vivi obviously didn't mind, and I think you were having fun being bratty to your sister.
You're the best, Miss Madeline. The best four-and-a-half-year-old kiddo in the whole universe.
I love you!
Mumma
You started dance lessons again this winter, and you love it. Your class is a combination of ballet and tap, but you like tap better. You listen to the teacher and follow along beautifully. Watching you dance every Saturday morning is one of the highlights of my week because you have such fun with it.
I've noticed the same pattern at school. You love your teachers. You love your friends. You come home with a million stories of the games you played. But, while the other kids run to give the teacher a hug as soon as they enter the room, I have to prod you to even say hello. By the time I pick you up, you've warmed up and are bouncing around with the rest of the kids. It seems like you'd just rather observe the situation carefully before diving in for the fun.
Meanwhile, you never stop talking at home. In the car, the random questions and observations sometimes come so fast that I don't have a chance to even reply. There's just a steady stream of Maddie Bear chattering from the backseat.
You've become quite the Taylor Swift fan. We listen to her in the car, and you know all the lyrics to all of her songs. If we're tired of Taylor Swift, you request Disney music. You still like classical music and show tunes. You do not like the Beatles, which is sad.
It's been a long winter of being couped up indoors. You've developed the habit of running around in circles every evening around 5 pm. It's as if all the energy in your little body can no longer be contained, and you just have to run.
You're a great big sister. You help me take care of Vivienne. You give her hugs and hold her hand at the library so that she can't run away from Mumma. Sometimes you get upset when you have to share your toys or when she tries to eat your food. It's understandable. We're working on ways to distract her from your toys instead of shrieking at her when you get frustrated. You still like to treat her like a dog sometimes by making her play fetch or trying to trap her in a box/ doghouse. But mostly, you guys are great together.
You ask for alone time most days, and we try our best to give it to you. You can shut yourself in the playroom where Vivi can't bother you. The entire time you're in there, we hear high-pitched talking from the other side of the door as you play with your dolls. Vivi lays on her belly and tries to peer under the door at you.
We let you stay up late to play games or watch a movie with Mumma and Dada every now and again. We watched Big Hero 6 last week. Toward the end, you looked a little scared, so I asked if you wanted to stop the movie. You said yes and climbed right into bed with your eyes open wide in fright. I felt like a terrible mother. We traumatized you by forcing you to watch a superhero cartoon with us.
You're still working on your letters and how to write. You were reluctant to learn for a long time. I think you sometimes have trouble figuring out which hand to write with. You're a lefty when you write, but a righty for almost everything else. I downloaded a preschool app that lets you practice writing, but you use your right hand on the screen instead of your left. It's very interesting to watch.
Meanwhile, you're drawing like a fiend all of a sudden. For the longest time, you would just scribble colors without trying to make any pictures. Now, you draw people and houses and dogs. I love it. Last week you drew me the solar system and some black holes because you're learning about space at school. Then you drew a picture of the two of us, complete with "sun kisses" (freckles). It's awesome.
We went to get your haircut last week. You decided that you wanted bangs like your cousin, so we gave it a try, and you look so much older. The shorter hair is a bit curlier and unruly, but you look adorable.
I brought you to see Cinderella over the weekend to celebrate your half birthday. It was a long movie, and you got a little fidgety toward the middle, but you were a good girl and stayed in your seat the whole time. It's always a treat to have time just with you.
You've been playing Cinderella since we saw the movie, but you like to pretend to be the stepsisters. You made Vivi be Cinderella the other day and bossed her around. Vivi obviously didn't mind, and I think you were having fun being bratty to your sister.
You're the best, Miss Madeline. The best four-and-a-half-year-old kiddo in the whole universe.
I love you!
Mumma
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