ur Four and a half

Dear Zoe,

 

You are closing in on four a half. I never wanted you to turn four. I was so afraid that this was the age where people started to have expectations of you. And your personality is so huge, and so you that I didn’t want to see any of it stilted or numbed by the various confines of the world’s views on how children should behave exactly.

You amaze me. Daily. You excite, infruriate, frustrate and envelope me. All the time. I can’t even begin to explain the passion you have about everything. Your whole face and body get into every single thing that you say. And oh my gosh, some of the things you say. You are hard to yell at without laughing sometimes. Everything is a giant, sweeping proclamation uttered in a vocabulary YEARS beyond your time.

And if I think Abby is teaching me things about her on a daily basis, it is you, Zoe, who teaches me things about myself. You grabbed the back of my head the other day, looked into my eyes, and said, “Don’t worry momma, you always take good care of me. I know you love me.” And you are FOUR, for crying out loud. How do you even know what all of that means?

You are very into dressing yourself right now, so it’s all striped with polka dots. And you have refused to give up your dresses, despite it being 40 degrees, so you usually have one of those, over jeans and under a sweater. People in public constantly remark how well accessorized and how adorable you are.

You are right on the verge of reading. You want to so bad. You are in a bowling league, and you cheer as much when you knock down one pin as when you knock down 8. You say, “HIII-YA” everytime you throw the ball. It’s amazing to watch. You start T Ball in a few weeks, and I can’t wait to see how you do on a team. You keep repeating to me what we talked about, that there will be kids better, worse than, and as good as you. You are sure you are going to have something to teach all of them. You and daddy have been practicing throwing a lot with velcro mitts.

You miss your nana every single day. You always want to right her messages, webcam with her. I want to preserve these wonderful feelings and memories despite the distance, because the relationship means so much to you.

You were NEVER a picky eater, and suddenly you are dissecting your food, looking for suspicious colored specks and turning away bread with oats on top. This from my child who ate hummus and salmon at the age of two.

You are a fantastic big sister, and you are always worrying about Abby. You hate when she cries, but you pretty much hate all loud noises. Bella sleeps up on the top bunk with you every night now, curled around your feet. This pleases you beyond anything else. You took the responsibility of coming to get us to get her down every morning very seriously.

I love you, and even though you are never what I would call easy, I wouldn’t want you any other way.

Love,

mom