Dear Charlotte,
Happy Birthday! Today you are 4! For the past couple weeks I’ve found myself calling you “my 4-year-old” so it will make my life much easier now that it is finally true. But no matter how I slice it, you continue to race headfirst into being your own unique little person, and it’s is so much fun to see.
First of all, you are just so darn funny. Your facial expressions consistently crack me up, and your comedic timing is impeccable. You take great joy in anything that makes anyone laugh. Earlier this week on our way to swimming lessons, Emma was reading jokes in the car. You started laughing so enthusiastically at every punchline, immediately after it was delivered, even though you in no way understood the word play or puns that made most of them funny. But your laughter was so infectious that in short order we were all laughing at YOUR laughing, and all having the best time.
You love to sing and dance, and after being hesitant to sign up for a second round of the rigmarole that is preschool dance, I gave in this year because I know how much you will love the class (and the shoes). On weekends as you play in the living room with legos or dolls, the whole household is treated to full volume renditions of whatever song happens to be in your head, real or invented. I must admit that the invented ones are my favorite.
I have noticed you engaging in a lot more imaginative play in the past few months, and when I’m able to eavesdrop without you noticing me, I am treated to some real gems. A couple weeks ago, I heard you call one of your characters “Jose Altuve” and my heart just about burst from love…and from stifling my happy laughter. When you’re invoking the name of the Astros All-Star second baseman as part of your lego play, I think we are doing parenting right.
You love “fancy” things and dresses, and told me a couple nights ago that when you grow up you want to be a princess. Your crazy curls are your defining look most days, and getting you to wear your hair pulled up or away from you face is a tough sell. You put careful thought into selecting each day’s bow or headband — or bow AND headband — even though they are often tossed aside by midday.
This summer you have become a great little swimmer, no longer afraid to put your face in the water and instead motoring around the pool in your floaties with purpose. You even went off the diving board — something your sister didn’t want to do until she was older!
One thing that hasn’t changed a bit as you’ve grown is your spunky personality. You are a spitfire — quick to laugh when you’re happy, and to lash out when you’re upset. I hear “you’re the worst mommy ever!” on a fairly regular basis in response to parenthood sins as egregious as asking you to find your socks and shoes. I mean, the nerve! But it is always followed minutes later by the sweetest “I’m sorry Mommy.” Things are good or bad, high or low, and rarely in between. You cheer when you are happy, scream when you are mad, and — my favorite — adorably ask for hugs when you are sad. You are snuggly and wary and sensitive; you are fierce and determined and independent. I love you for all of it.
Lately, you often seem worried that we will miss things, or that you will be left behind. Yesterday as we prepared to leave the house and you overheard me tell Emma that it was time to go, I heard you shouting from the bathroom, near tears. “Wait!! Mommy, wait! Don’t leave without me!!”
Charlotte, I promise that as long as it is within my power, I will never leave without you.
Love,
Mama
