33 Months Old

Dear Penny,

It's hard to believe that in a mere three months, you will be 3 years old. Sometimes it seems like you're already 3, but I think it's ok for you to be 2 just a little while longer. As I'm writing this, you are sick with a nasty cough, which marks the 3rd illness you've had in 3 months. I think it's going to be a long night. I can't wait for warmer weather so we can air out the house and kick winter to the curb.

You love to play pretend - sometimes you're a mommy taking her baby for a walk, or putting her baby to bed. Sometimes you're a cowgirl, galloping all over the house on her make-believe horse (which for some reason, bucks you off a lot, and then you pretend to cry). You also enjoy painting on your easel and you've learned that mixing blue and red together makes your favorite color. You prefer to do things by yourself, and you scold me when I forget, which makes me laugh. ("No, I do it!")

You are very opinionated about the songs you want to hear in the car. The other day, you made your dad play "Joe Hill" at least 5 times, and although it is an important and meaningful song, it's a little macabre. Now you go around singing, "I never died, said he!" We haven't had to explain death to you yet, though. If it comes up, I'm going to let Daddy field that topic, since he played that song for you in the first place.


Playing "My Side!" with Daddy at the table.



I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be waking you up in the morning instead of the other way around, but we've had a few mornings where you've slept in to the point where I had to get you up so we could make it to dance on time. And speaking of dance, I'm really proud of you, Penny. I don't dance with you in class anymore because you can do everything by yourself. I sit off to the side with the other parents. You listen to your teacher (for the most part), and you remember what she's taught you, which means that you've also learned some French in the process.



The other day, I caught you looking in a little mirror; pretending to "get ready" by rubbing your face with a piece of Styrofoam, as if you were applying makeup, and my heart almost stopped. I have to remember that you are always paying attention, and sometimes I forget that. I am your role model. I set the examples for you to follow, in my actions and my behavior. Oh Honey, I'm really not ready for you to be interested in makeup yet, even though I wear it. Someday I will explain the definition of "hypocrite."

Otherwise, life is pretty good, unless you're sick, like tonight. And sometimes, even though you're almost 3 and you like to do so many things yourself, you still need me, and I still need to be needed. My heart still melts when you tell me you love me. I will never get tired of hearing that. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom.