Amelia is the perfect storm of clever and naughty and adorable – she is living up to every second of toddlerhood, in all of its terrible and terrific glory.
She is one of the most tenderhearted children I know. Whenever anybody looks or acts sad, she is quick to do her best to comfort. When Baby Lily was born, I was a bit weepy off and on for the first couple weeks (maybe more… it’s all a fog now). One day I was crying and she ran over to me.
“Mommy a little bit sad?”
“Yeah, Mommy is a little sad right now.”
“Ohhhhh… what the matter, Mommy?”
“Oh, nothing really, I’m just a little tired or something.”
“Okay, Mommy.” She gave me a huge hug, patted my back, and kept repeating, “It’s okay, Mommy. It’s okay, Mommy. It’s okay…” Then she left for a minute and reappeared with her beloved stuffed monkey. “Here, Mommy, have a monkey. You okay now.”
She does the same thing with her cousins and friends when they’re sad. She is just beyond sweet.
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Amelia loves, loves, loves Baby Sister. She proudly tells strangers, “That my baby sister!” and asks to hug Lily a hundred times a day. She shares her toys (“We don’t put toys on Seeyee’s face, Mommy.”) and blankets (“We don’t put blankets on Seeyee’s face, Mommy.”) and movies, “(Look at Tangled Princess, Seeyee!”), but not her food (“Seeyee doesn’t eat blueberries – she’s too little. Just only breastmilk, Mommy!”).
Whenever I appear anywhere without the baby, Amelia gets very concerned - “Mommy, you need to go get Seeyee right now!”
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She is also a bit (read: a lot) mischievous. She has to explore everything, and has learned how to carry her little chair around to act as a stepping stool when needed. If somebody (I or Tim) tells her to stop, she looks us straight in the eye and says, “Oh, you want me to stop?” And then proceeds to do whatever she was doing.
She is put in time out at least once every couple days, and has recently taken to putting herself in timeout when she finds it convenient. For example, she hates having her diaper changed. Yesterday she saw me bring a diaper downstairs, so she ran onto the couch and said, “Mommy, you CAN’T change my diaper, I’m in timeout!” She also puts herself in timeout when she thinks a nap or a hair washing is impending.
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She suddenly loves all things television and movie related. Her favorites are Kipper (“Kipper my best friend, Mommy.”), Curious George, Wibbly Pig, Tangled, Toy Story, and Cinderella. We watch Cinderella every day… sometimes more than once. The plot is very simple: “The mean girls ruined Cinderella’s dress because she wants her fairy godmother.”
Lest you’re worried about her brain turning to mush, rest assured that she doesn’t ever really watch shows very carefully. She multitasks. She has a basket of her favorite toys in the living room. They mostly consist of stuffed animals, blankets, a doctor kit, and a couple baby dolls. She gives the animals and dolls several medical examinations a day, and puts them down for a nap (with one or more blankets) every couple minutes or so.
She also has a colorful abacus (which she pronounces correctly) and we practice counting a lot. A lot, a lot. She absolutely refuses to concede that there are any numbers past ten, though. If we continue to eleven and twelve, she gets very upset. “Just only one two free four five six seben eight nine ten!!!”
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Needless to say, we can’t imagine life without her. She is exhausting and expensive and a professional mess maker, but she is also lovely and silly and sweet. Last night while we were in the car, I said, “I love you sweetheart – you’re my little princess.”
She said, “My love you, Mommy, ‘cause you my fairy godmother.”
