"I'm three-quarters-and-a-half," she tells me, with a serious insistence more appropriate for a conversation about what she wants for breakfast.
The Bean has officially moved past being 3.5 years old, and now talks frequently about how she's almost 4. She has had a wonderful past month, including Christmas in Tahoe with her whole family, an extended visit with B and Z in Portland, and a Daddy/Daughter weekend at home.
Her teachers at daycare/preschool keep telling us how smart Francie is, that she's the most advanced in her class, the only one who knows her birthday or writes her name. My parenting ego is, of course, flattered by this praise of my spawn. But the other part of me wants to protect her from high expectations of either her instructors or of herself. I just want her to feel good about who she is where she, none of this perfectionistic, compliant, upper-middle-class white-girl business. But the thing is, she does seem really bright. Not compared to other kids, just relative to my own expectations of what she should and should not know. She seems particularly perceptive on the social front. She demonstrates a lot of compassion and kindness at home, especially in her pretend play. But I hear that she's the first friend to console her classmates at school, whether they are sick or hurt or sad missing their mommies. She has developed into quite the little girl this last month - flower girl dresses, clip-on earrings, lipstick, high heels, princess crowns, Sofia the First, Anna and Elsa ... I'm doing my best not to draw too much attention to this phase, so as not to encourage it or shut it down. Just let it pass. She still mostly plays with her dolls or stuffed animals, likes to listen to her Frozen CD (that she bought me for Christmas) on her new CD player in her room, and draw or write. She does fabulously during her hour-long quiet times, and never ever naps. She wakes us up in the middle of the night about 50% of the time right now, and earns 3 marbles if she stays in her own bed all night. She is starting to talk and interact with us, at times, like a full grown kid, mature 1:1 conversations and all. One evening she sat on my lap on the couch for 25 minutes just chit-chatting about her baking baby cousin, about wanting me to have another baby, about how she understands she wouldn't get as much attention but that's okay because she'd help with the new baby like give it bottles, about plans for who she wants to visit or play with. She certainly has a certain amount of sass and meanness in her, much like my dad tells me I was as a kid, but it's only targeted at me or Alex. While she still exhibits shyness in social situations, she also plays well with almost anyone else, or seems content to explore or play by herself. She still believes/knows that her buns are the cutest thing ever, and before bath covers her butt and tells me she has a birthday present for me, sings me Happy Birthday, then reveals her naked butt like "ta dah!" I found myself entirely infatuated with her the other week, like I just couldn't get enough. With the intensity I used to have crushes on boys in high school or college. I would just smother her with hugs and kisses, or look at pictures of her on my phone. It feels kind of good (and a little bit creepy) to be oh-so-in-love with her.
France: "Should you go to the feeling Doctor?"
Out of the blue: "Even when I'm sad I love myself."
Whispering in my ear: "I think you're beautiful. I love your hair."
Alex to Jo: "Wait, you wouldn't want to live across the street from my parents on Agatam, with your dad living in an ADU connected to our house?"
Jo: "No. That sounds like a lot."
Alex: "That kinda sounds like hell."
Francie: "Hell yeah!!!"
A lot of these photos are repeats from other blog posts, but I like to have my favorites all in one spot:
Alex to Jo: "Wait, you wouldn't want to live across the street from my parents on Agatam, with your dad living in an ADU connected to our house?"
Jo: "No. That sounds like a lot."
Alex: "That kinda sounds like hell."
Francie: "Hell yeah!!!"
A lot of these photos are repeats from other blog posts, but I like to have my favorites all in one spot:
I accidentally bought her tinted lipgloss rather than chapstick. And she's wearing her designer Seven Brand outfit from Uncle B.
Some QT with Laura and Garret, netting her a bunch of new toys, including a stuffed dog she named "Eyebrow."
She must know more about NYE tradition that we give her credit - this is how we found Big Baby on New Year's.
We clearly have different thermostats - I'm bundled in a down jacket and knit blanket, she practically nakie.
No comments:
Post a Comment