and now we are three

[moominmolly]

Reasons I feel like a good parent:

• N's preschool teachers keep asking things like "...did she just go to Amsterdam?" and "did you guys eat chocolate noses yesterday?" and I get to say "Oh, yup! That really happened."
  
• Today I got asked by a green knight, "Mommy, if I wanted to find a squire, where should I look?" When I suggested the home of the stuffed animals in the living room, she replied, "Oh, THANK you, Squire Mommy!"
  
• She can pick words out of songs in French, all of a sudden: "Mommy, what's this song about?" "Hmm, I don't remember. Let's listen." "She just said oiseau and I think that's how we say 'bird' in French. I think it's a song about birds."
  
• I have a kid who will ask for a birthday with "pretend noses", perhaps in part because she knows I will try to give them to her. And -- I did.
  
• Recently I went up to snuggle N in her bed one evening when it sounded like she was having a bad dream. She wrapped an arm around my neck and mumbled, "we'll be friends forever and ever." Granted, it was a quote from a book, but some days half the stuff out of her mouth is quotes from books, so I think I still get to count it as sweet.
  
• She couldn't have been more excited to go to the Somerville Library today and get a library card. (Previously, we'd only gotten out library books from the French library.)
  
• I'm pretty sure that I usually talk to her like a real person who thinks real thoughts. When she gives me a choice, such as "would you like to read books to me on the bed, or on my Dora couch?", I try to give the options real consideration and thoughtfully choose an answer, since, really, it was nice of her to give me a choice in the matter. :)
  
• Here was her Halloween costume:
  
  
  
  
  "I am a ASTRONAUT."
  
  

Reasons I feel like a bad parent:

• I'm messy and forgetful. Like, SUPER-messy and SUPER-forgetful. It's often hard for me to remember that she wants a glass of milk long enough to get her a glass of milk, especially if there is anything else going on. (I do, at least, manage to pick her up from preschool every day without being late; this genuinely feels like a miracle to me.)
  
• I know that she needs warnings about what's going to happen and when -- even the most adventurous spirit needs to know what the plan is, before changing it. And yet I often fail to listen, or take her feelings into account when I know the plan is going to be unusual. She reacts accordingly. Even when she reacts very gracefully for a three-year-old (which is not uncommon!), I sometimes get frustrated with her hurt feelings. Later, when I've had half a moment to reflect, this makes me feel like crap.
  
• Sometimes I really want nothing more than to take overnight me-time away from her.
  
• (I feel extremely guilty about taking overnight me-time away from her.)
  
• I sort of overcompensate for feeling like a basically boring at-home caretaker by super-filling our time together with ADVENTURES! and WILD THINGS! when I secretly suspect that really she just wants to have a nice dinner at a normal table with a regular mommy who's eating the same thing she does, then take a bath, and then have books in bed.
  
• Today, I don't actually remember the last time she ate something green. I made baked mac and cheese for dinner, and she ate that, some yogurt, a bit of colby jack, and a glass of milk. (I kid you not.) At least it wasn't her desired meal: leftover cake, which was actually also her breakfast. Luckily, there's only one piece left.
  
• When she woke up on her birthday morning, I was NOT IN THE HOUSE. Later, when she saw me and we read a book together for her naptime, she said to me, "I'm really glad you could see me today."
  
• Sometimes she yells at wee S. that she NEEDS SPACE!!! when S. is just coming down to say hello and it breaks my heart to see S's face. Apparently, no amount of talking about how that kind of yelling hurts S's feelings and couldn't we find a nicer way to talk about being alone? will actually sink in. I'm sure it will eventually but for now I'm just sad about it.
  
• Even though she potty-trained herself quickly, at ~25 months, in a bizarrely dream-like week where apparently she just up and decided she should pee and poop on the toilet all the time and was suddenly dry at night by the end of it, I admit: even though I should thank the heavens for how easy that was, in reality I'm kind of annoyed that I still have to wipe her butt clean. Seriously! It's been almost a year, can't she do it by herself yet?
  
• She likes her preschool well enough, but I often wonder if I should be seeking out the most precisely tailor-engineered learning environment to help her bloom and grow into the perfect wonderful adult human she really wants to be, rather than just sending her to the one at the end of our block.

It's an eternal and unforgiving balancing act between things that make me feel great and things that make me feel like crap. I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to suspect that it will always be like that: the things themselves will change, but the balancing part won't.

Here we are, though: three years in as of yesterday and I just can't believe how articulate, fun, and thoughtful this kid is. She tells me jokes that make me genuinely laugh. She's silly and goofy and polite to strangers. She sings herself to sleep and likes to turn the light on and stay up reading, stealthily. When I pick her up at the end of the day, she often drops whatever she's doing and yells, "MOMMY!" and run-tackle-hugs me like going home is the best thing she could imagine. I think -- today, I think, that despite the mess, that means I'm doing okay.

Happy third birthday, kid. I love you like fire on fire.