You all, RR is killing me lately. With everything. In almost every possible way. Fair warning, if you’re here for my devastatingly quick wit or brilliant storytelling, this post is all about RR and involves a ridiculous amount of parental bias. Obviously, all of the other posts before and in the future are totally breathtaking and impartial.
As much as late-two/newly-three sucked the wind from my sails, three and some is leaving laughter and joy in its wake. RR is happy and kind, patient and curious, delighted at every new skill and determined to use them. Many of the developmental milestones I hoped for (and wondered at their absence) are suddenly here and, for the most part, are far more fun that I thought they would be.
We recently visited my family and my sister, who possesses colorful language and a flair for using it, inspired me to use the term “craphead”. While both Debra and I are a bit salty, we far prefer terms like fuck and douchecanoe (has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?). RR, bless her heart, overheard and immediately repeated it, something she has never done before, despite living in a house where we don’t check ourselves. Thankfully, she hasn’t repeated it since. I don’t want to have to explain to her teachers why she hasn’t picked a better curseword to glom onto.
All of a sudden she loves us. This morning, she gave me a hug and kiss goodbye (skills she possesses but uses sparingly) and told me she loved me. As I walked away, I heard her say to Debra, “I love mama.” Debra replied that she loved mama, too, which made me feel happy just in case one of us died on the way to work and those were the last words I ever heard. What? That doesn’t ever occur to you?
I’m constantly impressed by how easy she is in so many ways. She goes to bed at 7 every night without so much as a raised eyebrow (she does this without meaning to and, since it’s one of the things I love about my wife, I get a thrill seeing it in my daughter). She eats vegetables and prefers them to most other foods. She eats chicken and beef without complaining and eschews chicken nuggets. Believe me, I wish this weren’t the case since it would make eating out far easier. This morning we tried Chia Seed Pudding and it was priceless watching her face as she rolled the sweet gelatinous seeds around in her mouth.
She has started peppering her speech with words like “otherwise” and “perhaps”. She hums while she plays, little tunes she’s heard once or twice. Songs we have to work to recognize. Songs she’s made up. She holds the leash while we walk the dog and tells him “you’re killing me, Moses” when he pants too near her (like mother, like daughter). She sometimes looks just like me, and as much as it doesn’t matter, it still makes me happy.
Maybe we’re lucky not to have had another one. This one is pretty fabulous.