A Mommy Story

Four.

How is it possible that my baby is four years old today? It seems like only a short time ago that she was cradled in my arms, the needy baby who insisted that she was always attached to me. She lived her first year in my arms or strapped to me in some way. And while she is more independent now, she still comes to me every evening, asking, “Can I sit wif you?”

At the same time, I wonder how it’s possible that only four years have passed since Mira joined our family? It’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t babbling loudly about some random subject, taunting her older sister, spinning in circles until she falls down, or stomping her foot in protest at some slight.

Mira is convinced she can do anything, and telling her no only encourages her to try it. That would be why my brand new can of sunscreen is empty after she found it one morning and applied “just three sprays” to herself and everything around her, draining the can.

When scolded, you can see her deep in thought, already trying to determine how to get out of the situation and working on what to do next. She has no shame in approaching anyone – even strangers – and attempting to manipulate them to get what she wants. But just when you reach your breaking point with her, she swoops in with an, “I wuv you” and a hug and completely disarms you.
 
Despite her speech apraxia, Mira talks nonstop. She will repeat herself several times if you don’t acknowledge her the first time – although acknowledging what she said only leads her to continue on to a new tangent. But practice does make perfect, and her speech is getting better and better, even if I do wish she’d understand that silence is occasionally a Good Thing.

At four years old, she’s already had a boyfriend. She’s already determined she wants to be a mail carrier or a train engineer when she grows up, and plans to drive a pink car. And she plans to be a mommy, too.

She’s my social butterfly. My drama queen. My force of nature. (Tsunami? Hurricane, maybe?) The child who will keep my stylist in business from needing to color over all of the grey hairs she gives me. The girl with the pretty curls and long eyelashes who will likely keep Aaron up late at night when she’s out with friends as a teen.

As much as I laugh at how stubborn and unruly Mira can be, I love how aware she is of everything around her. She’s funny and knows how to say just the right thing at just the right time. She never forgets anything said to her. She has an eye for fashion and loves to pick out her own clothing. (Pink, of course.) Her favorite animals are polar bears and she never falls asleep without her precious pink stuffed polar bear tight in her arms.

Happy birthday, Mira. You’re four years old now, but that doesn’t mean you get to drive yet. Sorry, little girl, you have to wait to grow up. But trust me: enjoy being small while you can, because you’ll have a lot of time to be an adult. And you can’t just smile and say “I wuv you” to get out of trouble as an adult.