Three year olds.
Need I say more?
There are times, like yesterday afternoon, when the Little Lady is very, very much the little diva. Wearing her Hollywood glasses, sipping her pink lemonade, telling me it’s the perfect day for “Laxin’ in the sunshine.”
There are the times of singing and rhyming . . . moments when my girly-girl pirouettes in the playroom, experimenting with sounds and words to reveal her opinion and understanding of life.
She’s sweet at those moments.
There are times when she’s the ultimate tom-boy . . . like this past weekend when, helping me plant herbs, she discovered a colony of slugs. And, “BOY . . . do I weally love SLUGS, Mommy.”
(I probably don’t have to go into the details of how that love didn’t bode well for the longevity of the slugs)
And, of course, there are times when she uses her knowledge of the world to be slightly ornery. . . like Thursday morning when the Little Lady informed me she wished she was a bee. So she could make honey. And sting me. On my nose.
(clearly, I must have said “No” too much that morning)
Through every little stage, she’s nothing more than a sponge, soaking up the world around her, listening with keen ears to everything that’s said. Bringing me book after book after book so I can help her with reading development — or, in her view, so she can learn ALL about “buttewflies, bugs, and baby animals.”
(maybe she’s going to be a little scientist someday)
Though there are days when I’m irritated by the constant refrain of “Why” or the constant pushing of boundaries . . . and the constant bossy tones that resonate in her squeaky voice, I love this age.
As a Mommy and a (former) teacher, I can see the wheels turning during this stage of unstoppable learning . . . where every question, every rhyme, every song is preparing her for the next stage of life: kindergarten . . . another teacher focusing on reading lessons, science labs and charts, writing practice, mathematics . . . formal education.
I only have a short year left to be her sole teacher — the one person helping her explore language, music, science and the rest of this large world.
One year left to be the center of her world — “the” influence.
I’d better make this year count.
