"Mommy, you're face doesn't look like mine."
"Well, your face is just, all, bumpy, and mine isn't."
"Thank you for your honesty. You may want to work on censoring that."
Dear Age Four and a half,
You are at times, quite fun. At other times, I want to drop you off on the side of the road. You have a wonderful sense of humor and then, all of a sudden, the drama, and screaming, takes over. You crave attention like a voracious animal, and always in the worst scenarios. You cause my child to jump on people and demand play time. And when those people don't want to play, you cause her to become a puddle of tears. I know, Age Four and a half, you just need love, and attention, tea parties, and play dates, hide and seek, and story telling, but you need to work on having patience, and I must say, I'm looking forward to meeting Age Five. I'm told Age Five is lovely. Age Four and half, you're often rude, and seem to have lost all pleasantries. But then, out of nowhere, you surprise me with your kindness. These ups and downs keep me on my toes, and as always, allows us to have a very interesting and unpredictable life.
No matter what, Age Four and a half, I love you.
Isaac loves the dollhouse.
...he was tired...
Isabella had a cold this week, which only added to the drama in our house. The other day she took a nap. I knew she needed it, but I also knew this meant she would have a really late bedtime. Every night, she listens to a CD of Beethoven's Adagios as she falls asleep. Beethoven always helped me fall asleep, so I started this a few months ago. After coming out of her room to tell me something very important for the umpteenth time, she stopped mid sentence and ran back to her room. I walked back there and found her curled up under the covers. She said, "Mommy, do you know why I rushed back to my room?" "No, why?" "Because I really like this part." "Oh, you really like this part of the piece?" She nodded, and smiled. "I really like this part too."