Last week, September 8, Sophie turned 3.
Is it hard to believe that this child who grew in my belly
who could barely focus on my face
who couldn't talk or walk
is 3?
Yes. No, not really. Kind of. It all at once seems like yesterday and forever ago. I can't imagine life without her, and yet it all just happened. Yesterday.
Sophie has definitely entered her 3's. Every hour is littered with "watch me do!" as she gets into downward dog and lifts one leg to the ceiling. "Watch me do!" as she stands on her tip-toes. "Watch me do!" as she crosses one leg over the other and leans against the wall in a very grown-up gesture. And I should correct her as my mom did this weekend on Skype. "Sophie, say watch me do THIS" but it's so cute.
At the same time, she can be ferocious and demanding, "Mommy! I want ORANGE JUICE!!!"
Whoa.
And those demands seem to become more prevalent. And I try, oh I TRY to react with love, with grace, but sometimes... sometimes... sometimes I put both of us in time out.
I have heard an astonishing number of parents recount to me that their most difficult age was not 2, but 3. I can see this. There is a level of independence that wasn't present a year ago, as well as a testing of limits. She will ask for eggs, then refuse to eat them. She will wake up at 4AM and refuse to go back to sleep... unless we take her to our bed. She follows me around saying, "I want you" after we have spent an hour playing and snuggling and the laundry still needs to be folded.
We are seeing the development of her interests. While in South Dakota, my niece (9 days Sophie's junior) was deftly defending the basketball hoop while her mama dribbled. Sophie conducted an elaborate interpretive dance to keep Stacey at bay. I'm starting to look for ballet classes for her.
She loves to paint, especially if Roy or I paint with her. I haven't used watercolors since high school and the honest truth is, they're a lot of fun.
She loves sleeping over at her cousin Aubrey's and asking Wendy Dog what sticker she wants. She sets the table for dinner and chooses what plate she will use that night. And she has informed us that she would like a baby brother or sister. She will have to wait on that one.
And at 4AM... during the meltdowns and the tantrums and the defiance, I wipe my brow and think, wow, I want another one of these? And I look at that child of mine and think yes. To experience more love like this? Oh, yes.
We parents were relegated to jockeying for position in the 5" window, but I was fortunate that Sophie chose a position where I could get a picture.
Miss Megan, the teacher, let us in for the last 5 minutes where they performed what they had learned: first position, plie, and they held their hands in front and turned in circles.
Sophie had such a blast, and next week they'll start working on their December 5 holiday recital. Now if we could just get her to take off the ballet shoes.
who could barely focus on my face
who couldn't talk or walk
I have heard an astonishing number of parents recount to me that their most difficult age was not 2, but 3. I can see this. There is a level of independence that wasn't present a year ago, as well as a testing of limits. She will ask for eggs, then refuse to eat them. She will wake up at 4AM and refuse to go back to sleep... unless we take her to our bed. She follows me around saying, "I want you" after we have spent an hour playing and snuggling and the laundry still needs to be folded.
She loves to paint, especially if Roy or I paint with her. I haven't used watercolors since high school and the honest truth is, they're a lot of fun.
