Don’t. Even. Panic.
I kissed a three year old goodnight and the next morning I discovered a four year old in her bed.
Three is, hands down, my favorite age in children so far and four is nearly as perfect. I love the delightful mix of independence and cuddly little person. The longer attention span and ability to reason and be reasoned with coupled with innocence and wide eyed wonder at the world. It’s my favorite age for the funniest quips and quotes and Zara has been spilling them all over the place.
She lives for Sunday so she can play with her friends, but especially so she can go to Sunday School. I didn’t hear much about Sunday School for the first six months; but more recently I’ve been hearing snippets of stories, always told with great drama and sometimes motions. In the last few weeks, she’s been repeating the rules for Sunday School over and over.
“Mom (I’m always Mom instead of Mommy when it comes to these), what are the rules for Sunday School?”
Me – “I don’t know, what are they?”
Zara – “Obey right away with a happy heart. Always be kind. When the teacher is talking, shhhhhhhhhh.”
But the most repeated conversation is this one.
“Why did God make us?”
Me – “I guess because He wanted to.”
Zara’s eyes got big and her voice slow and deliberate, “No, for his OWN GLORY.”
Two minutes later, “Mom, why did God make us.”
Assuming she wanted more information I said something else.
Zara – “NO! FOR HIS OWN GLORY. Why can you just not remember? For his own glory. For his own glory. Now do you think you can remember?”
She still asks occasionally and I love to “forget” the “own” part of the answer just to see her intensity as she corrects my faulty theology.
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She loves her water ice cold and it always needs lots of ice. You would think she was born in the deep south instead of in Maryland although it’s possible it’s learned behavior from her southern born mama. So if she asks you for eleven inch cold water you’ll know what’s going on. She’s also pretty set on having a certain cup. For awhile the boys were “claiming” David and my Yeti every morning. It was fine until Zara caught on and suddenly there were three kids and two Yetis. The instant she heard either of them say, “I call silver,” she’d yell, “I call black muggy.”
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She’s been with us for four years and some days I STILL have a culture shock with the girliness that is now part of our life. When you’ve been a boy mom for ten years you start to think in boy mode. Sometimes it’s all the pink and ruffles and twirly skirts and glittery shoes. Sometimes it’s the conversation. Like these:
There were a pile of three ladybugs in the corner of the bay window.
Zara – “Oh, there’s a family of ladybugs.”
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Bella walks out with two horses and pretends to eat them. Zara was horrified! “No, Bella. They’re lovely. They’re really, really lovely.”
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Zara – “Mom, there are tears rolling down my cheeks. I fink I had too much sugar at Grammie’s house.”
Me – “How is that making you feel?”
Zara – “Like I need to cuddle with Mommy.”
She deserves a masters in emotional manipulation; but even I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until the other day on the way home from town when she was whining.
Adam – “Zara, stop fussing. Fussing doesn’t get you anything anyway.”
Zara – “Yes, it does.”
Me – OOPS!
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Me – “You are getting so big!”
Zara – “Yes, soon I’ll be an uncle and then maybe Bella will be my twin.”
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Some days her lips get wharfed (chapped) and when it’s cold she gets fist bumps. She likes the dizzy (striped) hairbands and when it’s hot (which is pretty much all the time in her opinion) she kicks off the covers because “my legs need fresh air.” One day she looked at the potatoes and carrots on her plate (she hates white potatoes) and then told me, “This food is too dangerous.”
When I made black raspberry mint infused water she was so thrilled. “Mmmmm, this water is so pretty and then it will go in my tummy and make it smell sooooo good.”
After a sneeze surprised her while she was coloring she looked up at me and said, “Oh, no! I blessed my paper!”
Of course, so many things are pretty!
“Oh, Mom, you look so pretty and so cute but not very pretty.” And a few days later, “Mom, you look pretty.” “Thank you, Zara,” I said, “you look pretty, too.” Zara – “No, I’m not pretty. I’m handsome in my pajamas.”
She squeals when she sees a smart car, “Mom, that car is just my size!” or “Mom, that car is too little for me. Maybe Bella could drive it.” She squeals equally about Jeeps. I have no idea where that obsession came from, but it seems to be the vehicle of choice and it’s like finding a packet of lollipops to spot one while we’re driving.
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Early one Sunday morning Liam and Zara crawled into bed with me.
Zara to Liam: “Let’s talk about birds.”
Liam: “Birds?”
Zara: “Yes, beautiful birds.”
Liam: “Ok, Zara, what is your favorite bird?”
Zara: “Hawks”
Liam: “What kind of hawks? Red tailed hawks?”
Zara: “No, cardinals.”
Liam: suddenly taken by a cough — “I think I’m starting with a cold
Zara: “Shall I pray for you?”
Liam: “Sure”
Zara looks at me: “Can you help me?”
Goodness, just melt me into a puddle.
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Some of my best conversations with the boys happen in the car and the same thing happens if Zara and I go somewhere alone or with just the girls.
Zara: “How can God hear us talking when we aren’t praying? Does He have a stethoscope?
But how will we go to heaven?
But then I couldn’t play with Jackie.
But what if Jackie would die? Then I would have no friends.” Completely dejected she finished slowly with, “Evan and Elliot would be there but I would have no friends.”
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Half the time it’s not so much what she says as the way she says it with so much drama. The morning of her birthday she sat on the counter to watch while I decorated her cake.
“Will every single birthday be February 19?”
Yes.
Her eyes got huge and with implied exclamation marks and poignant pauses between each word she said,
“DON’T. EVEN. PANIC.”
And then in a hushed whisper. “So many nineteens.”
I can’t wait to live another year with her!
Beautiful! My favorite age is also 3 year olds!
Happy Birthday Zara! I remember praying for you when you had to go to Johns Hopkins and now you are a healthy, lovely, interesting 4 year old!
Mom is blessed and mommy too!
Thanks for sharing this special day!
These milestones are such a precious reminder of the miracle we were given with her!
love, love, love!