Greetings Little One

Navigation concerns

You went to dinner with Nani and Gramps last week, and after rejecting The Rainforest Café (you love their fish tanks but despise the frightening interior of the restaurant, they allowed you to choose the location.

“California Pizza Kitchen” you said and then led the way through the mall to the restaurant.

The fact that you can already navigate your way through the mall is a little unsettling to me, little one.

    

You make me look funny

When you are laughing, little one, and you want to tell Mommy or me that we are funny (as an explanation as to why you are laughing), you say, “You’re making me look funny!”

I love this little quirk of language and will be very sad when it goes away.

Anti-Barney rhetoric proves to be effective

Mommy and I think Barney and Friends is a dumb television show, little one.

Granted we have never actually watched the program, but we can just tell. 

In an effort to keep the show from ever polluting our television, Mommy has poisoned your mind by making derisive comments about the program whenever possible.

It worked.

When Sesame Street ended this morning and a preview for Barney and Friends came on, you pointed at the television and said, “That purple T-rex is yucky!” and then pretended to spit on the ground. “A-puh! A-puh! A-puh!”

I find myself feeling both exceedingly proud of your taste in television, little one, and a little dirty at the same time.

The Pteranodon song

You love dinosaurs and love music, little one so a combination of the two was inevitable. And cute.

Gratitude journal: Daddy

Tonight I am grateful to be called Daddy.

You are just three years old, so Daddy is probably safe for a while, but I know that Daddy will eventually evolve into Dad.

And while Dad is just fine, little one, there is nothing like walking in the door after a twelve hour day of teaching and parent-teacher conferences and hearing your daughter scream “Daddy!” from the back of the house, followed by the scampering of her little feet as she runs to the front door.

You have this new baby thing all figured out.

A conversation between me and you, little one:

Me: What’s in Mommy’s tummy?

You: A baby! A cute little baby!

Me: And when the baby is born, what will you be?

You: A big sister!

Me: That’s right. Will you help us take care of that little baby?

You: No, Mommy will take care of the baby.

Me: But Clara, big sisters can take care of babies, too.

You: No, Mommy will take care of the baby.

Me: If you won’t help us take care of the baby, what will you do then?

You: Play.

Gratitude journal: Clara’s kisses

Tonight I am grateful for the way you will grab hold of my the cheeks and pull me in for a kiss.

There will come a day when your kisses are decidedly less exuberant and significantly better aimed, little one, and that will be a sad day indeed. 

Gone fishin’

Oh sure. To you, little one, this looks like a little girl waving a toy broom at the camera.

But it’s not.

That toy box is actually a boat, one I was required to sit on for quite a while. The broom is a fishing pole. The floor is an ocean, the rug an island, and all those dolls on the floor are swimming.

And while I wasn’t thrilled to be asked to sit in the boat and row for what felt like an hour while singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, I couldn’t help but marvel at the imagination of my little girl.

Reading a book (and eventually sharing your chair)

You and Gramps spent some time reading while we were visiting Aunty Emily and Uncle Michael in New York last weekend.

It was quite a cute moment, little one, despite your initial unwillingness to share the chair with your grandfather.

Cutest astronaut ever

Is a career in aerospace somewhere in your future, little one?

Maybe…