Letter to Anna: Month thirty-four

Dear Anna,

Well, it finally happened, I missed a monthly letter.  I knew I couldn’t keep it up forever and I kept trying to make time, but life just got in the way.  And that’s OK, because a life full of hugs and laughter from you is so much more important than sitting at a computer.  That said, my brain cells are dying faster and faster and I love being able to look back and read about what you were doing just a few months ago or last year or during those precious first few months of life.

We are in full blown princess mode around here.  You have several princess skirts that rotate, an amulet necklace (just like Sophia’s), and so.many.tiaras.  If we’d allow it, you’d wear a princess skirt 24/7, but we have to draw the line with school and public outings, so it’s the first thing you run to get when we get home.  Your dress-up clothing is in a bin within reach in your room and you’re now independent enough that you can walk up, dress-up and return before we even knew you were gone.  When we’re going to be home for a while, we let you wear your princess dress, which is basically a full blown ball gown, and although you look adorable, the taffeta is scratchy and it’s hard to find an easy way for you to use the bathroom … but none of that bothers you.  When wearing a princess skirt, you demand we “introduce” you as Princess Anna (“do do do do, it’s Princess Anna”) and when you’re wearing your dress you are “Anna-rella.”  You call your father Prince Daddy, I’m Queen Mommy and Charlotte is still just baby Charlotte.  You love to “go to the ball” and dance and will hold your hand out to Prince Daddy and ask him “may I have this dance,” and then the two of you twirl you around the room.

You love to put on a show and are turning into quite the performer.  You can sing, dance and act, quite the triple threat!  You love to re-enact scenes from your favorite shows (namely Sophia the First) and are generally pretty spot-on.  When a performance is complete, we are given the OK to clap and you look adorable as you stand there and bow or curtsey.  You take a weekly dance class at school and I was able to observe a class last month; I must say you were the cutest student.  The class focuses on a mix of ballet, gymnastics / tumbling, and dance moves and you participate with two of your best friends, Audrey and Avery.  You love to show us what you learned on Wednesday evenings, and although we opted not to participate in the recital this year, I can’t wait to see you perform on a stage one day soon. 

You’re much more aware of the world around you and the emotions of others.  If I start to raise my voice or get into any sort of heated conversation with your Dad, you pick up on and it and ask us to “be happy.”  You also regularly ask “talk to me Mommy” when you’re sad or needing assurance.  You’re able to answer specific questions about school or dance class or an outing and proactively start conversations that we can follow nowadays.  Given your dramatic inclination and the fact that you’re two, we sometimes have to fact check with your teachers or grandparents, but you’re usually not too far off base.  You also repeat everything, and I mean everything.  Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always cute – you have the sweetest little voice.  You’re current catch phrases include “owie” (when you hurt yourself - which is often – you’re not the most graceful child), “that sounds like a good idea”, “c’mon Mommy (or Daddy), c’mon” and “Oh MY goodness.”

We've started to see some sibling rivalry here and there and were extra cautious during Charlotte’s birthday celebrations a few weeks ago.  Now that you can process and understand more of what is going on around you, we’re careful to make sure you feel included, but also understand what’s really going on.  We started talking about how Charlotte’s birthday was coming up and that yours would be next and were mindful to get you a few gifts to open (one from Charlotte specifically), adorned your chair with balloons and also bought you a special cupcake.  The day of the party you did great and were a “big helper” when it came to opening gifts, and then testing them out.  You’ve already told me that you want a princess party with pink cupcakes, so I’d better get to work.

You are still a very sensitive girl and tend to get your feelings hurt fairly often.  It’s hard for your Dad to understand why something makes you sad or upset sometimes, but he’ll get there; he’s living with three girls now, after all.  Sometimes you just need an extra hug as you leave for school, or an extra kiss goodnight, or for Mommy to linger in your room for just a minute longer.  You give the best hugs (in the whole wide world, as your Gigi tells you, and you repeat) and nothing is sweeter than when you come over unprompted, wrap those little arms around my neck and say “I love you so much, Mommy.”  I read somewhere recently that you should never pull away first when hugging a child because you don’t know how badly they may need that hug and I do just that; I let you linger as long as you need.  There will come a day when you won’t want to hug me in public, or maybe even at all, but I’ll tell you that to this day, the best hugs I get are from my Mom, there’s just nothing in the world like them.  When I’m sick it makes me start to feel better, when I’m nervous or anxious it puts me at ease, and it always makes me smile, just like hugs from you.  You will always be my little princess, twirling around, asking your Daddy for a dance.  And I’ll always be here to give you a hug when life’s not exactly a ball. 

Love,

Mom