Oh, Grace. Where do I even start?
I love watching you when you don’t realize I’m paying attention to you. I see when you hide your toys from your sister and when you take her hands off the furniture you’re on or the toy you don’t want her to play with, which frustrates her to no end. I see the snacks you sneak from her. I find the clothes (namely socks) that you have stashed in various places around the house – at least, I do eventually. I hear you mutter things under your breath that you don’t think I’ll hear. Can’t you save that for at least the preteen years? I obviously hear you when you scream at me at the top of your little lungs… but then, I suspect everyone on our street does as well.
Do you know that I also hear you when you sing your baby doll to sleep and snuggle her in your bed? I hear your pretend phone conversations, and laugh to myself at how you pick up phrases that I say and pace when you’re on the phone like me. I see the kisses you drop on Sophie’s head, and the hugs you try to give her, even if she feels (understandably so) that she is being held on the floor against her will. I notice when you make your bed and lay out your pajamas at night, even when you have to climb around the various articles of clothing strewn around your room to do it. You love to be helpful, and are always asking if you can help cook, wash dishes, fold laundry, or scrub the floor. I love when I ask you to do something for me and you sweetly respond, “Sure! I would be happy to!” We’re still working on your response time, as it seems the word ‘hurry’ doesn’t mean a whole lot to you, but we’ll get there.
There is no question that you would try the patience of a saint, and I think we all know that I’m no saint. I think about how defiant you are now and dread the teenage years and inevitable clashing that will come. Potty-training you has been a cross, to say the least. I thought that in having girls, there wouldn’t be issues with aim in the potty… once again, I am proven wrong. You tend to take advantage of times when I’m on the phone or being in public to be sassy, since you know it’s a lot more difficult to yell or discipline you when I’m trying to have a minute of conversation with someone who doesn’t ask me 43984723078 questions per day.
Your memory constantly impresses us, and we laugh at what your little imagination dreams up. It makes me smile when you bring me an assortment of play food as “‘breafext’ in bed, for your anniversary Mom” and when you make silly faces in order to get Sophie to laugh. It’s all I can do not to laugh when you pray the consecration along with Father at Mass, and it melts my heart a little bit every time when you offer to pray for someone. You ask us to read books all the time, until you memorize them and “read” them to yourself, verbatim.
I know that your stubbornness and passion will serve you well one day, if you learn to channel it in a way that doesn’t make the people who love you want to hide from you. You have a soft heart and care about others. You are brimming with personality and keep our days interesting, to say the least. You challenge me every day, but I’m so grateful that I get to be your mom.