gush

“She seems so much older than three.”

 

I’ve been hearing this a lot lately.

 

Granted Lovie is just three months shy of four, but still, she’s three.

 

 

The girl has quite the vocabulary and can talk your ear off. She’s been like this since before two, believe it or not. Now though, she’s added spelling and writing her name and a few other words to the mix. And she absolutely loves all books (still), including books on CD in the car and at bedtime.

 

She’s a very smart girl who catches on immediately. She absorbs everything. And I do mean everything (as do most littles).

 

So I think that’s why people have been saying that she seems older than she is.

 

taking over piano duty at the grocery store

 

 

I generally just smile when people interact with her; I find it quite entertaining to watch when it happens, which is pretty much wherever we go. If you give her the time of day, she’ll find something to chat about. She’s a lot like her dad in that respect.

 

 

 

 

I’m glad she’s so social and verbal and communicative. I really am. I’m so proud of her I can’t even put it into words.

 

And my love for her? It truly does expand each and every day. How that’s possible, I have no freaking idea, but it truly does.

 

 

 

Still, when I hear people comment that she seems so much older than she is, a part of me worries. I suppose that’s because I’m a natural born worrier--people have been telling me all my life that I worry too much.

 

I just really want her to love life and live life to the fullest. I don’t want her to seem older because her youth was snatched from her.

 

I don’t want her to become me.

 

But I know she’s not me. I know she’s oh so different than me. She likes pink and dresses and princesses and ballet and tea parties and ponies.

 

 

 

She’s super outgoing and so much fun.

 

So it’s okay that she seems older. Because I know her childhood is still intact. I know her innocence and sense of wonder still remains. And I will do all that I can to ensure that it remains for a long, long time.

 

 

 

It’s just that I want her to remember jumping on the bed...having a popsicle for breakfast on Sunday morning...watching one more episode of Team Umizoomi before bed.

 

I want her to look back fondly on her youth.

 

I want a smile to shine on that gorgeous face when someone talks about childhood and she starts to reminisce.

 

 

I just need to let go of my insecurities from my own childhood, and try not to read into what people say about Lovie.

 

She seems older, yes, but she’s three and a half. Just ask her, she’ll tell you.

 

 

the first half of three

While she's not yet officially 3.5, the past almost-five months have provided me with a lot of insight into being THREE. I think.

At first? Woo dog was she kinda intense. She was constantly crying and screaming about any and every little thing and bedtime was about to put me into a mental institute. But then things calmed down and I figured that the intensity of January was a result of the holidays and her birthday being days apart; too much of everything fun, fun, fun came to a crashing halt and someone didn't know how to deal with it. That's what I'm telling myself, at least.

She's still intense, don't get me wrong. But she's also really kinda ... cool.

Unlike this article here, I don't think of her as being an asshole. Irrational at times? ABSOLUTELY.  Asshole? No way. She's three. I mean, I get the reasoning behind the author saying three year olds are assholes and appreciate the humor behind the article, but I just can't do it; I just can't call a three year old an asshole. They don't know enough to be called such.

That all said and done, Lovie's irrationality does crack me up at times. Sure, in the moment, it drives me a little batty, but once she's settled down and--rational--it's funny.

Like last night.

I told her I was making spaghetti for dinner and was slapped with a "NO! I DON'T WANT PASGHETTI!"

I made it anyway and told her it was time to eat. Of course she ignored me until I turned the TV off and then she kissed the cat and skipped into the kitchen. I pretended not to notice her reaction when she sat down to a bowl of "pasghetti." I just acted like she never screamed she didn't want it.

Lo and behold, girlfriend gobbled that shit up like she hadn't eaten in days, moaning in delight after each and every fork-full was stuffed into her hole.


Yeah, I'm not so much a fan of the screaming and dirty looks for the strangest reasons, but she's still learning so much.

I don't know. So far three is intense and irrational at times, but it's also kinda badass-fun, too.