Sunday
Mar142010
Dear Kaylee, at 34 months
Sunday, March 14, 2010 at 01:02AM
Dear Kaylee,
Let me tell you a story. Today we went to the zoo so you could feed crackers to the giraffes, ride a pony and see if your tiger was anywhere to be seen. Daddy made the mistake of telling you before bed last night, so from the moment you woke up this morning, all you could talk about was the zoo. “Are we going to the zoo now?” “When are we going to the zoo?” “After nap? Can I take a nap now?” When we finally got there, the giraffes weren’t so interested in the crackers, the ponies weren’t giving rides, and the elephants had been taken inside. You handled it all (mostly) like a champ, and we still managed to enjoy ourselves despite the chilly weather.
One advantage to the chill, though, was that a lot of the animals that are normally hiding out in the shade were up and wandering around in plain sight. For example, we’ve never ever seen the snow leopard up close. So when we stood outside his enclosure today, we were happy to see that he was not only in plain sight, but he was also looking right at us. When he saw that we’d spotted him, he walked away, feigning nonchalance, but as we turned to talk to each other again, the snow leopard began to stalk our way. We looked up. He stopped and looked around, aloof. Then he apparently decided, “I’m going to play a game with the tourists.” He looked me right in the eye, got to his feet, and started walking toward us. Neat! I thought, Kaylee’s going to get to see the snow leopard up close. Then he started jogging toward us. Hmmm, what are his plans? I wondered. And then he sprinted at us, took a big leap, and banged into the glass right in front of our faces. Although logically I knew the glass was probably cat-proof, there’s no way to experience having a giant predator leaping at your face without your heart briefly stopping. I was sure you’d panic – and, admittedly, I was a bit shaken myself – so I snatched you up and walked away. I expected hysterics to start immediately, but instead you looked at me, smiled, and said, “That was funny!”
You are a mystery to me, girl. You panic at the sound of a vacuum cleaner. You’re scared of my hair dryer, the flushing sound of public toilets, and getting your face wet. But when an enormous cat that would happily eat you for a snack jumps right at your head, you laugh. We’ve come a long way from the lobster incident.
Your third birthday is just two months away now, and I’m constantly amazed by how grown up you seem these days. You hold long conversations with your friends about The Backyardigans and going to the zoo. You say please and thank you (usually) without being told. Tonight you got a washcloth from the linen closet, wet it with a little water in the bathroom and cleaned a spot of strawberry smoothie off of your stomach, all by yourself. Where I once worried that my shy little girl would never work up the nerve to play at a playground with kids she didn’t know, you’re now more than willing to strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. At the doctor’s office yesterday, you told the nurse all about how you lost your watch and couldn’t find it anywhere. As we arrived at a playgroup last week, you announced, “I’m going to talk to Ella’s mommy.” Sure enough, before we left, you sought out Ella’s mother and told her what was on your mind. And when Papa and I took you swimming yesterday, you immediately befriended a 5-year-old boy, and within minutes you had him fetching you toys.
Maybe some of that confidence comes from the fact that you’re a BIG SISTER now. You won’t let me call you a big girl anymore, and every time I do you immediately correct me with a loud, “I’m not a big girl, I’m a BIG SISTER.” And you seem to love this new role, so much so that I hear you randomly telling strangers sometimes. After our exercise class the other day, we stopped at the mall play area to tire you out so you’d nap when we got home, and before long, I could hear you telling other kids about your BIG SISTER status. But part of that pride seems dependent on the fact that your brother can’t do anything yet. It’s like you’re happy to have him here, but only because he’s too small to go after your toys. If you’re having an ice cream cone, you feel compelled to point out that “Brother’s too little for ice cream, but I can have ice cream.” If you decide to jump over a toy on the floor, you have to remind me that your brother’s too little to jump. I dread the day Robbie scoots across the floor and wraps his tiny fingers around the leg of one of your stuffed animals, because I don’t know how you’ll react when you realize that he’s no longer too little to touch your stuff.
I do have to admit that you’ve been a little extra challenging lately, kiddo. Maybe the terrible twos have finally arrived, or maybe some days you’re just a little bitter about having to share all the attention with your brother, but sometimes you’re just on a screamy little warpath. Sometimes you request chocolate milk and then collapse in tears when I get it for you. You often challenge everything I say, as if you think I’m just too stupid for words. When did you become a surly teenager? I have moments when I wish I could just shut you in your room for the day and let you fend for yourself, when you ignore everything I say, or start sobbing seemingly for the hell of it. Some days I just don’t know how to handle you.
But even then, on those days when I can’t figure you out at all, when you’re yelling at me and refusing to cooperate, even on those days, there are so many other moments when you make me smile, make me laugh, and make me wonder how it’s even possible that I created such a wonderful person.
Love,
Mommy
Let me tell you a story. Today we went to the zoo so you could feed crackers to the giraffes, ride a pony and see if your tiger was anywhere to be seen. Daddy made the mistake of telling you before bed last night, so from the moment you woke up this morning, all you could talk about was the zoo. “Are we going to the zoo now?” “When are we going to the zoo?” “After nap? Can I take a nap now?” When we finally got there, the giraffes weren’t so interested in the crackers, the ponies weren’t giving rides, and the elephants had been taken inside. You handled it all (mostly) like a champ, and we still managed to enjoy ourselves despite the chilly weather.
One advantage to the chill, though, was that a lot of the animals that are normally hiding out in the shade were up and wandering around in plain sight. For example, we’ve never ever seen the snow leopard up close. So when we stood outside his enclosure today, we were happy to see that he was not only in plain sight, but he was also looking right at us. When he saw that we’d spotted him, he walked away, feigning nonchalance, but as we turned to talk to each other again, the snow leopard began to stalk our way. We looked up. He stopped and looked around, aloof. Then he apparently decided, “I’m going to play a game with the tourists.” He looked me right in the eye, got to his feet, and started walking toward us. Neat! I thought, Kaylee’s going to get to see the snow leopard up close. Then he started jogging toward us. Hmmm, what are his plans? I wondered. And then he sprinted at us, took a big leap, and banged into the glass right in front of our faces. Although logically I knew the glass was probably cat-proof, there’s no way to experience having a giant predator leaping at your face without your heart briefly stopping. I was sure you’d panic – and, admittedly, I was a bit shaken myself – so I snatched you up and walked away. I expected hysterics to start immediately, but instead you looked at me, smiled, and said, “That was funny!”
You are a mystery to me, girl. You panic at the sound of a vacuum cleaner. You’re scared of my hair dryer, the flushing sound of public toilets, and getting your face wet. But when an enormous cat that would happily eat you for a snack jumps right at your head, you laugh. We’ve come a long way from the lobster incident.
Your third birthday is just two months away now, and I’m constantly amazed by how grown up you seem these days. You hold long conversations with your friends about The Backyardigans and going to the zoo. You say please and thank you (usually) without being told. Tonight you got a washcloth from the linen closet, wet it with a little water in the bathroom and cleaned a spot of strawberry smoothie off of your stomach, all by yourself. Where I once worried that my shy little girl would never work up the nerve to play at a playground with kids she didn’t know, you’re now more than willing to strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. At the doctor’s office yesterday, you told the nurse all about how you lost your watch and couldn’t find it anywhere. As we arrived at a playgroup last week, you announced, “I’m going to talk to Ella’s mommy.” Sure enough, before we left, you sought out Ella’s mother and told her what was on your mind. And when Papa and I took you swimming yesterday, you immediately befriended a 5-year-old boy, and within minutes you had him fetching you toys.
Maybe some of that confidence comes from the fact that you’re a BIG SISTER now. You won’t let me call you a big girl anymore, and every time I do you immediately correct me with a loud, “I’m not a big girl, I’m a BIG SISTER.” And you seem to love this new role, so much so that I hear you randomly telling strangers sometimes. After our exercise class the other day, we stopped at the mall play area to tire you out so you’d nap when we got home, and before long, I could hear you telling other kids about your BIG SISTER status. But part of that pride seems dependent on the fact that your brother can’t do anything yet. It’s like you’re happy to have him here, but only because he’s too small to go after your toys. If you’re having an ice cream cone, you feel compelled to point out that “Brother’s too little for ice cream, but I can have ice cream.” If you decide to jump over a toy on the floor, you have to remind me that your brother’s too little to jump. I dread the day Robbie scoots across the floor and wraps his tiny fingers around the leg of one of your stuffed animals, because I don’t know how you’ll react when you realize that he’s no longer too little to touch your stuff.
I do have to admit that you’ve been a little extra challenging lately, kiddo. Maybe the terrible twos have finally arrived, or maybe some days you’re just a little bitter about having to share all the attention with your brother, but sometimes you’re just on a screamy little warpath. Sometimes you request chocolate milk and then collapse in tears when I get it for you. You often challenge everything I say, as if you think I’m just too stupid for words. When did you become a surly teenager? I have moments when I wish I could just shut you in your room for the day and let you fend for yourself, when you ignore everything I say, or start sobbing seemingly for the hell of it. Some days I just don’t know how to handle you.
But even then, on those days when I can’t figure you out at all, when you’re yelling at me and refusing to cooperate, even on those days, there are so many other moments when you make me smile, make me laugh, and make me wonder how it’s even possible that I created such a wonderful person.
Love,
Mommy
Reader Comments (2)
From that smile in the second photo, I"m thinking she REALLY likes the zoo. I can't believe she's almost three!
She befriended a 5-year-old boy? What if she befriends another kind an BOY-friends him and the become close neighbors?