you wake up around 4 or 5am and you creep into our room, sneak into our bed and fall asleep again. and your papa and i think how glad we are to have a king sized bed because EVEN with our giant bed we still end up feeling like there is not much room because we wake up looking like a capital H and you are the middle bit and we are very much at the edge of our mattress.
this morning i woke up at 530am and you and papa were sleeping and i couldn’t get back to sleep so i crept out the house and went to yoga. when i came back you were still asleep and so i crawled into bed and you woke up and asked ‘where’s papa?’ i told you he was in the kitchen and asked if you wanted to go see him and have breakfast and you said ‘no, let’s just cuddle for a little bit’.
today was one of the very good days. a few days ago we had one of the very frustrating days, the sorts of days that i wonder if i’m actually cut out for parenting at all and i have ally mcbeal moments of, well, i probably shouldn’t say, but ya know – your little 3 year old brain can be p.r.e.t.t.y annoying sometimes.
lately you’ve been very very involved with your imaginary play. and i’m sure that it’s very good, but is it weird that sometimes i get jealous? i mean, it’s actually awesome cause you like to play with your friend ‘monkey’ and i very rarely need to participate. you’re a very good friend to monkey and it makes me feel like we need to have a huge family one day: you LOVE being around your friends and family.
Hanging out with a three year old is nuts. Some of the time you seem totally sane and rational and intelligent. And then within minutes, the same rational girl that was telling me all about sharing with her friends, turns into an INSANE PERSON. And sometimes i actually laugh, because the only other option would be to cry. And despite it all (or because of it all) i love you more and more each day. I love your little dreadlocked hair, naked-all-the-time (‘we have trouble getting her to keep her clothes on’ your teachers say), grubby, paint-covered body, always-art-making, bear-hugging, kissy, loud-singing, water-loving little self.
At the end of each day, your papa and i always, always marvel at your existence.
And pray that you will sleep through the night.
i have very few memories of easter as a kid. the first one that comes to mind is being in the Bay of Islands and eating a huge amount of chocolate with my brother and feeling so unbelievably sick and confused that a good thing like chocolate could make me feel so awful.
my other memory would be probably a few years later when my mum decided that she would only give me a couple chocolates and then something more practical like a book or coloring pencils. i can’t even remember what she gave me, i just remember feeling relieved that i wouldn’t have an overload of chocolate again.
being neither particularly religious or in love with consumerism, easter is very low key around here. and by low key i really mean non-existent. unless we are invited to brunch with friends who happen to hide some organic treats around their house for the kiddos to search for. which we were and so that is how we celebrated easter.
we got out of the city for a night, mid-week. the big trees, the snow, the lake, the cozy cabin, the HUGENESS of it all – it’s the sort of stuff that makes me love this part of the world.
sometimes i forget how close we are to so much beautiful nature. the main reason that i am SO excited to finally get a car is because adventures like this one will be so much more accessible.
it was just the three of us, no kids, no husbands and the most gorgeous sunset ever. naturally we got lost while we were walking, so it was extra exciting.