Three is both utterly terribly exhausting and delightfuly wonderful at the same time. Aimee turned three a few weeks ago and every day is a new discovery. Every day she is able to command her tongue a little bit better and new phrases and words pour out of her mouth as if they were in there all the time just waiting to be freed.
New words and phrases:
Actually
Special
Did you hurt yourself, Mommy? Can I kiss it?
Are you done breaking? (After Brian explains to her that I'm taking a break).
BLUE'S CLUES IS COMING UP MOMMY! (Except that she still says "Blue's Blue's".)
Can I have a Tortilla?
What's that?
Mosquito bite (She has like 3 of them).
Brow
Oh My Dear! (Instead of: oh my God or gosh).
Today she finally came to understand that the Mexican looking baby in all those baby pictures she likes to keep in her room are of HER and not Daniel. He's the white looking baby. Which means that she now understands that she once was a baby herself and she is growing.
She has yet to understand that although many people like calling her "Princess", I am not, in fact, one of her servants who she commands with phrases like, "Mommmmy....Chocolate Miiiilllk" or "You clean it up for me, Mommy" or my favorite, "Mommmmy, you go find my bwanket".
The Wiggles are sooo last year and the Disney Princesses are where it's at.
Potty training, until now, has been an utter failure. I am convinced that her "accidents" are merely a form of rebellion and excersizes in showing me who's really boss.
She is demanding, headstrong, and vocal.
She also still smells like strawberries. She likes Target, asks if we can go for ice cream when we go on walks along the Naperville River Walk, and dances like a Puerto Rican when she hears dance music at the Frozen Yogurt place.
She has already skinned her knee twice this summer. We were half way to the park and I don't know if she cried more because she thought that we wouldn't go to the park anymore, or if it was because her knee hurt. I remembered what that felt like, the devastation of having awesome plans interrupted by a stupid accident, and the relief of making it to the destination even though everything didn't go as planned.
Three is awesome and sad at the same time. This is the last year I can call my little baby girl a "little baby". This year, all that is baby inside of her will be outgrown and a little girl will fully replace all of her babyness. It makes me want to cry.
New words and phrases:
Actually
Special
Did you hurt yourself, Mommy? Can I kiss it?
Are you done breaking? (After Brian explains to her that I'm taking a break).
BLUE'S CLUES IS COMING UP MOMMY! (Except that she still says "Blue's Blue's".)
Can I have a Tortilla?
What's that?
Mosquito bite (She has like 3 of them).
Brow
Oh My Dear! (Instead of: oh my God or gosh).
Today she finally came to understand that the Mexican looking baby in all those baby pictures she likes to keep in her room are of HER and not Daniel. He's the white looking baby. Which means that she now understands that she once was a baby herself and she is growing.
She has yet to understand that although many people like calling her "Princess", I am not, in fact, one of her servants who she commands with phrases like, "Mommmmy....Chocolate Miiiilllk" or "You clean it up for me, Mommy" or my favorite, "Mommmmy, you go find my bwanket".
The Wiggles are sooo last year and the Disney Princesses are where it's at.
Potty training, until now, has been an utter failure. I am convinced that her "accidents" are merely a form of rebellion and excersizes in showing me who's really boss.
She is demanding, headstrong, and vocal.
She also still smells like strawberries. She likes Target, asks if we can go for ice cream when we go on walks along the Naperville River Walk, and dances like a Puerto Rican when she hears dance music at the Frozen Yogurt place.
She has already skinned her knee twice this summer. We were half way to the park and I don't know if she cried more because she thought that we wouldn't go to the park anymore, or if it was because her knee hurt. I remembered what that felt like, the devastation of having awesome plans interrupted by a stupid accident, and the relief of making it to the destination even though everything didn't go as planned.
Three is awesome and sad at the same time. This is the last year I can call my little baby girl a "little baby". This year, all that is baby inside of her will be outgrown and a little girl will fully replace all of her babyness. It makes me want to cry.
1 comment:
no te preocupes.
she'll be ready when she's ready (with the potty); all kids are different.
At least she's doing her Puerto Rican dance! THAT'S what I wanna hear :>)
and, you're right. she is officially no longer a "baby" on the outside, but on the inside there's still alot to learn.
ENJOY!!!
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