Letter to Anna: Month forty

Dear Anna,

Well, I missed another few months. I’m sorry, but time just has a way of getting away from me and I can’t seem to catch up some days. Also, I’m just tired and usually don’t feel especially thoughtful at the end of the day; I think I sound incoherent enough on my own accord without publishing my random and haphazard thoughts for the world to see.

I have no idea where the term “terrible twos” came from and I’m not sure how or if behavior at that age has changed since it did, but I agree with most mothers in this day and age and lean toward the third year being the most challenging. You’re giving us a run for our money on a regular basis, usually in a good way, and I try to step back and admire your growing independence, aptitude, and physical skills when we have challenging moments; even when all I want to do is run and hide for a few minutes of quiet and cooperation.

You’re Miss Independent to a T. You want to do everything your own way and in your own time. The morning routine is probably the most frustrating because we have a set amount of time to get you girls, up, dressed, fed, and out the door and to our respective workplaces, and you seem to take the phrase the mindset around “stopping to smell the roses” to new levels during this 45-60 minute time span. Every.single.morning. Granted I’m a morning person and I’ve usually been up for 2 hours before waking you, but still. From the “leave me allllloooonnnneeee” to the snail’s pace you use in getting out of bed, to the disagreement over your outfit for the day, it takes FOR-EVER.

You’re very artistic and theatrical lately and routinely put on “shows” for the entire family. You’ll go on and on and then instruct us when to participate, or clap at the end, and are always happy to take your  bow, telling us “thank you, thank you.” You pick up new songs at school on a regular basis, including “Mr Sun”, “the days of the week”, and “Two little ducks.” Your performances range from traditional children’s songs to a full re-enactment from the movie Frozen, to something of your own creation, usually involving one of us, one of the cats, and always lots of hopping, jumping and twirling.

You’re still shy, but are a little quicker to come out of your shell. You did great with the transition to both of your new rooms at school recently (you’re still an Orca, but now in a different Orca room, with a new, but old, teacher), and we were floored when you started running down the hall to your class versus sulking and being pulled against your will. You’ve started telling us more detail about your day at school, but for a few weeks it always involved you crying / whining, such as “I was playing with a doll and Avery came over and tried to take it, so I said ‘wah wah wah.” Upon discussing these scenarios with your teacher, she confirmed that you do still have a whiny tendency, but it was much improved and you were getting better each day. 

You’re continuing to have “smarter” conversations with us where you recall a situation or a day and a series of events; such as “Aiden said don’t chase me, And I said don’t chase me, And then we played tag.” Sometimes we can make sense of it, sometimes we just let it go. You’re still working on the concept of time and defer to yesterday or last year often, telling me the other day that “yesterday I was a baby and said wah wah wah!” You ask most mornings if it’s a “school day” or a “stay at home” day, and although we all wish that every day was a “stay at home day”, we can always find something exciting enough to get you out of bed …. well, in about 15 minutes anyway.

You had a blast on vacation this year and loved the beach and the pool, but not the ocean. We spent most mornings enjoying a walk on the promenade or into town with your Grandparents, then went down to the beach for a bit where you played in the sand, chased seagulls, and generally refused to get any form of wet, much to your Dad’s chagrin. In the afternoon we went to one of the pools and you had an absolute ball. You wore your puddle-jumper life vest and went to town. One day I took you down while Charlotte continued to nap and you entertained yourself for over an hour and wanted nothing to do with me. We checked out a small amusement park on the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk, Funland, two evenings and you were in heaven. You rode rides both by yourself and with your sister and I’m pretty sure you smiled so hard that your cheeks hurt the next day. It took you a few days to realize we were on vacation, a few days in, you asked us “when does vacation start?,” but by the end of the week, as we were packed-up and heading out of town, you sulked that “I want to go down to the beach.” And, we all did! To be fair, you’d probably be happy anywhere there’s a pool and an alligator (elevator), so we’ll have to look at using some free hotel nights pretty soon. 

You’re at an age where you appreciate and recognize special time with me or your Dad and we try to make sure that we take you on dates regularly. Sometimes it’s a big outing like seeing Disney Jr Live with both of us, and other times it’s a trip to the dentist (your first, you did great!), a trip to the store, or out for ice cream. You don’t usually care what you’re doing, you’re just thrilled to be with us. Don’t get me wrong, you love your sister something fierce, but every girl needs some along time with Mommy and Daddy.

You make me proud every single day and I hope I tell you enough. I love to remind you that you’re smart, kind, pretty, and sweet, and all around of my favorite girls and that you’re going (we’re all going to) to have a great day. Just like my Mom did for me. I have plenty of time to remind you of these things during the one million seconds it takes you to get ready in the morning, a time you’re not usually paying total attention, but I figure that if I say it enough, it will sink in. Because you are the smartest, kindest, prettiest, and sweetest (big) girl that I know. And you’re all mine!

Love,

Mom