Time to remind you all--because I'm sure you forgot--that I love this girl.
Also, right when I sat down to type this post, she punched me in the face. Hmmm. So perhaps I need to remind myself that I love this girl.
What can I say about my Mary?
With Mary, I have to plan extra time into everything because of the silliness factor. Getting dressed means putting her pants on her head; putting on shoes means wearing Mommy's; setting the table means giving everyone baby spoons; going to school means hiding in my closet; eating dinner means shaking her booty for us. Mary can find silliness in anything.
She likes to laugh. This is probably her primary motivation for being silly--never ending reasons to laugh.
Mary likes to "build castles," which, as far as I can tell, means stacking all the junk she can find on the couch. This drives me crazy and Greg even more so.
Recently, Mary has named all of her boogers "Bob." She'll announce, "Bob the Booger! He's coming out!" or "It's Bob! I need a tissue." Yesterday on the way home from school, she related this experience: "Mommy, today at school I had a lot of boogers. I was doing my lesson and Bob fell out on my pant! Bob escaped from my nose and fell out while I was doing my lesson!"
Mary insists on having her turn to read books too. Each afternoon David practices reading, and then Mary "reads" his same books from memory. Recently, David's books have become too long and complicated for her to recite from memory. So I bought her a couple of her very own books, "I Like Stars" and "I Like Bugs." She treasures her books and reads them to me every day. (Incidentally, she is showing great interest in reading. Her sound book at school is full, and she has started making words from the sounds. She also enjoys pretending to sound out words in books.)
Mary is stubborn. She insists on her way. For instance, Greg has rules about his office door. If the door is open, the kids are free to come in. If the door is closed, he's available to the kids if they need him. If the door is closed with a stop sign displayed, Daddy is not to be disturbed. Mary hates the stop sign. If she interrupts Greg when the stop sign is up, Greg will remind her of the rule--the stop sign means no daddy. So Mary will remove the stop sign...and then go into the office. There was no stop sign on the door after all.
She likes a good argument. For example, she may ask you what day it is. It being a Wednesday, you would reply, "Wednesday." To which she would argue, "No, it's Friday!" "No, Mary, it's Wednesday." "No! It's FRIDAY!"
Mary sings songs throughout the day. She insists on listening to music in the car--farewell, my public radio--and happily sings along. She plays the piano and makes up songs, her favorite being a tune she calls "I hate winter."
Mary talks, and I can understand her. It's just wonderful having two children with whom I can communicate. Mary is no verbal wonder, but she happens to be more intelligible than her brother was at this age. It is a very fun thing to be able to hear what is going on in a three-year-old's mind. Everything from "I'm going to save this yogurt until my next birthday" to "I will be a funny girl when I grow up" brings a smile to my face.
Mary has a lisp, and I think it's so cute. She also uses an /f/ instead of /th/, as in "I'm firsty," and I also think that is so cute.
Mary love, love, loves her daddy. She insists on him for almost everything, except school chauffeur, which she has kindly reserved for me. He reads her bedtime stories, wipes her bottom, gets her dressed, and comforts her when she's sad. If Daddy is available, Mommy simply will not do. And when she wanders into our room at night, it's her daddy she's looking for. Greg has learned it's a mixed blessing when you're first choice--he doesn't get as much sleep on those nights when she's sick or having nightmares. But he adores her, and once admitted to me that he just can't say no to his daughter. It must feel good to come home after a year's absence to find that your little daughter loves you more than ever.
Mary is sensitive, and she feels life deeply. Her feelings can be easily hurt and not easily soothed. Often I hold her shuddering body as she sobs, "Tears, tears! I can't stop crying, Mommy. I can't calm down." Oh, life will be bright and beautiful for her, but it also will be hard.
Greg and I often wonder where she came from. Could a child so beautiful and funny and intelligent and energetic have really come from us, from our DNA?
But we are so glad she is here, with us.
By the way, after Mary punched me in the face--which was so impulsive that I think it surprised her more than I--she was sent to her room. And then I took her shopping. She is a super fun shopping companion, especially shoe and clothes shopping. She patiently enjoys browsing and has helpful opinions in the dressing room. She's my little gal pal.
Did I mention I love her?
