A couple weeks ago you turned four. Four. I know that I say all the time how fast time is passing, and that's true. It's going much, much too quickly for me. A while ago your daddy and I took you for a walk and once again, you were too far ahead, running all over the place and your daddy looked at me and said, "it's always going to feel this way isn't it? Like she's too fast, too far ahead, like we can't keep up with her." It does. It always feels that way. It's such a confusing mixture of feeling like you've always been here and like you just arrived. We're running behind you, watching you do and become all these things that you're just doing (so confidently!) and Daddy and I are wondering how we got here.
The last three months you've hit some pretty big milestones. You had your first laser surgery on your birthmark on June 11. You did so great. Your mama was a bit of a wreck. You're incredibly brave. Not just with something big and scary like a surgery, but in everything you put your mind to. You're so certain that you can do anything you try if you try hard enough, and I don't know how to protect you while keeping that part of you perfect and confident.
On July 6th, we told you that you were becoming a big sister. You weren't surprised at all (Daddy and I were!) because you'd told Jesus that you wanted twin babies and you said that Jesus told you they'd be here just after Valentine's day. You're absolutely right. I'm due March 10th, and you're so happy. I have been a terrible mama since then. So tired, and so very sick, and you have endless patience for me. You give me your "pokes", the significance of which is not something I'd dream of taking for granted, and you always want to know how I'm feeling, if your baby (it's only one, thank goodness) is okay, and if I need anything. You want to know all sorts of things about how the baby grows, what it eats, when you can hold it. You got to come to the ultrasound a few weeks ago and "your" baby waved to you and you bounced up and down on my legs, so excited. You're going to be the very best big sister, I just know it. I'm a little scared of things being different after it being us for so long, but I love the idea of you having a brother or sister. It just makes me so happy for you, for all of us.
The other big thing you've done is start preschool. I always said I'd home school you, and maybe I still will, but I've always believed in parenting a child the way they need to be parented, and not necessarily the way you WANT to parent. Does that make sense? I don't like sending you to school. I can say that now because you won't read this for a long time, but it makes me feel a little sick, to drop you off with a virtual stranger and drive away. Me and your daddy didn't do very well with it that first day. But you LOVE it and I knew in my heart that it was something you wanted. You need a really close friend, and that's something I can't produce for you at home. Nor will I have a large lizard in a tank like your classroom does, so I'll admit to there being benefits to it. I know you're going to do so well at preschool, that you're going to learn a lot and make good friends, which makes me happy. I love to see you doing something new. It makes me think of that line in the book I made you for your second Christmas, "I love how any time or place, you're up for anything." You have your Daddy's spirit of adventure, and you both cause me some sleeplessness but I wouldn't change either of you for the world. I want to let you do and be everything that you want, and not ever to let my fear or worry stop you from experiencing something wonderful.
Goodness, I love you. So, so much. You still sleep in my bed, and while it's the place that our arguments usually occur, "Bella, stop jumping, stop singing, it's 11pm, stop grabbing my face and hair and go. to. sleep!" I admit that I love to see you fast asleep on the pillow next to me, and I'm always a little relieved when Daddy shows up in the middle of the night and takes your kicking, squirming body off to your bed. Even when you're asleep you're moving, active, and busy. I don't know where I'm going to put you when the baby arrives.
We took you canoeing a week or so ago, on a camping trip. You and daddy were exploring this little island we found and I thought it would be fun to row around the side and surprise you. I was doing fine, rowing exactly where I needed to go. I started to think that this wasn't so hard, and I came around the side of the island that had been blocking the wind and got blown backwards. Hard and fast. No matter how hard I paddled, I couldn't go forward. I drifted backwards until I could row into the shelter of the island again and circle back, but it didn't matter how many times I tried to get to you, as soon as I left the shelter of the island the wind and the current carried me away. Eventually you and Daddy hiked back to me, bobbing uselessly in the water. It worked much better once Daddy was in the canoe. (There's a life lesson there, surely.)You bravely mounted the front of the boat like a little mermaid, hair streaming in the wind and whatever song you were making up floating back to Daddy and I on the breeze as he paddled us home. It was one of those really perfect moments, where everything feels exactly right, even though just moments ago, I'd been afraid and frustrated.
Sometimes you feel like that. Sometimes you're so easy to parent, it's easy to see myself in you and know what you're thinking or what you'll do next, and other times it feels like you're the wind. Like you're a current carrying me away and I'm thinking, "Wait, where are we going? I thought I'd do this differently." You feel like an individual, and you surprise me constantly. I wonder if all mama's struggle with that. You grew inside my body, it's hard not to think of you like an extension of myself. But you're not me and as every month passes it's easier to see you working your own little personality out. It's the most beautiful and terrifying things to watch. I'm endlessly proud of who you are. I love your courage and confidence, I adore your sensitivity and logic, I love your passion for learning and your consideration of everyone around you. I love the person that you are. I love the totally hilarious things you say and do, and the way you pray. You're such an amazing person, and I'm not just insanely blessed to be your mama. I'm proud to just know you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I will love you like crazy for forever and ever.
Mama.
