Three. How the hell did THAT happen?
(Her birthday was last week but this is the first chance I'm getting to write this because SOMEONE is cutting top front teeth and has decided that the only thing that makes her feel better is climbing on me all. the. time.)
(Also, if you follow me on pretty much any social media site you'll have seen all of these pictures. Sorry about that. She MOVES so much that all the ones I have that you haven't seen are blurry and terrible.)
Anyway, yeah. Three.
It's funny because I felt like she's been acting very Three for the past six months or so, but then she woke up the morning after her birthday and HOLY THREE, BATMAN. It's like a switch flipped. And continues to flip, randomly and with no warning, all day every day. Sometimes she is just the absolute most delightful kid I can imagine existing, and then the next minute she's hitting me, hitting the baby, hitting the dog, and wailing at the top of her lungs "I'm just MAD and I DON'T KNOW WHY AND I NEED A HUG AND A KISS AND A CUPCAKE TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER!" I'm finding that because these outbursts come so randomly and turn off as soon as they turn on, I'm handling them a lot better than the previous mode of outburst, which basically lasted all day, punctuated with tiny moments of pleasantness. When a tantrum goes on all day, it's very hard for me to stay patient and understanding come 5 pm. (Hell. Come 10 am.) But when she's totally fine and then all of a sudden she's just NOT, and she's obviously confused and frustrated by it, and then in two minutes she's back to normal, I can handle that. (Except the hitting. She really needs to stop hitting.)
She's such a fun kid. She's so polite (95% of the time)--today a neighbor we'd just met said, "Lorelai, I like your outfit," and Lorelai looked up from the chalk she was playing with and said, "Oh! Thank you very much!" The neighbor about fell over; I guess most little kids would have ignored her.
(It was this outfit. She dressed herself and I kind of love it and might suggest she wear it for school pictures this month.)
I keep calling her a toddler but she's not. Not at all. She's a full-blown run-and-dance-er. She's a KID. And I really don't know how that happened because wasn't she just born?
Ariel is her favorite princess, but she likes to pretend that she and I are both Elsa (she actually calls me Elsa now more than she calls me Mom) and we have to run up the steps of the ice palace.
Ice palace steps. Of course.
Speaking of, when did I become "Mom" instead of "Mommy"? I'm still "Mama" when she has a bad dream, which I love, because it means there's still a tiny bit of her that isn't all grown up yet.
Just a tiny bit, though. Mostly, she's ready for high school.
People tell me all the time how well she speaks and how impressed they are with her vocabulary, and I wish I could take credit for it but I can't. Well, I CAN, but only in the sense that it was me who decided to let her watch a ton of Disney Junior, from which she has learned far more than I could ever hope to teach her.
Her dance teachers, every one of them (she's had three), have all told me how coordinated she is and what good form she has for her age. There are days where I wonder if I should pull her from dance because she just doesn't seem to love it the way she used to, but then she'll have a really great class and her teacher will compliment her and she'll come home and pretend to be the dance teacher and Kaylee and I have to be her students. (Kaylee does a magnificent plié.)
I just love this kid so much. Happy birthday, Princess Lorelai. You're just the best.