Dreamseekers and Company

Anna I were watching Razzie in the back yard tonight and she (Razzie) jumped for some odd reason. I said maybe she got bit by a bug. To which Anna replied, “When I was Razzie I got bit by a bug and I jumped. But it was a long time ago.”

I’m not sure if I need to explain biology or religion or what….

April 17th, 2010

Dear Anna,

On your third birthday, it seemed like a good idea to write down some of the things that make you who you are. I’ll enjoy looking back on this over the years and see if and how you’ve changed and grown.

You are usually a very single minded little girl, approaching each task or game with intensity and determination. At three years old, you are also extremely easy to distract to something else. You will be playing with your dolly “Sarah” with zero awareness of the other things going on around you when your ears, which have been deaf to my questions, Maggie’s fussing and the roof falling in, notice that I am getting my vitamins out. “May I have a vitamin please?” you ask with eagerness and expectancy, dropping your dolly forgotten on the floor and running to the kitchen. The answer of ‘no’ would break your heart; a really good reason is necessary to say no without getting tears in response. Oddly, practical reasons work best. No elaborate stories necessary for this girl. A simple “They’re all gone” or “You had one already today” will not provoke the tears and collapse that a simple “No” would elicit. The first would get a response of “We need to go to the store and get some new ones!” and the second will simply get the good-for-every-occasion “Why?”

You are very compassionate. You carry your dolly tenderly, caring for her every little need. You feed them, rock them, kiss their owies and wipe their noses. Even when you were still a baby at eighteen months, you had a special expression when you were being a tender caregiver. It was and is something serious and something sweet.

You are a colorful mixture of immense practicality and a vibrant imagination. You have a whole host of imaginary friends. The blue monster went to “Anna’s Sunday School” with you one Sunday. I’m not sure if that was his first time or not. “Bob” lives in the reflection of the little drain plate piece on the tub. Bob, unsurprisingly, loves to swim. He also has his own Mommy and Papa and house. Sometimes he is not there at bath time, even though we tell her that we see him in the reflection. “He’s sleeping” or “He’s taking a nap” or some other activity that clearly places him in a different room of his house is the response.

Lately, you have begun singing more than ever. You sometimes use English and you sometimes just make up words, something that I am not capable of doing. But whatever the phonetics, your voice swells in expressive freedom. As you wander around the house, you dance and sing and carry on with your toys. We all wonder just what you are thinking about. Maybe someday you’ll be able to tell us. I wonder if you will be a writer or a storyteller because of the outlandish explanations you give us sometimes that make no sense to us. You are light years ahead of us it seems. With the genes from my sister Melissa and your Papa, you are well endowed with expressive creativity.

You are fiercely defensive of your independence. It takes a gentle but firm touch… or a tricky dance to steer you where you need to be. You love to master new things, brushing your own teeth, getting dressed, opening the fridge door (which is heavy), reaching the light switches, and pretty much everything else that we used to do for you. You are always stretching to accomplish more. You are also convinced of and holding tightly to being a little girl. You deny being a big girl and don’t want to be one. You needs your hugs and to be held and carried. You need reassurance and want a kiss for every owie, whether big or small or imagined. You are my little big girl.

You are tall for her age, but coordinated. You run and jump and twirl and skip without being awkward. You are very cautious about anything new. Climbing ladders at the playground, going on swings, going on slides… anything that you don’t understand thoroughly is avoided. You’ll watch other kids and maybe take a hesitant step forward, but you don’t try anything until you think it through completely or we go with you and have you do it with us. I love to watch the pride and laughs light up your face when you come down a slide and yell, “Mommy, I did it!” Once mastered, you repeat the new skill over and over and over.

You love to read books. You’ll get a whole stack of them and snuggle up on the couch with a blanket over your lap and read and read and read. Of course, you can’t read yet, but you make up stories that are like the stories that we’ve read to you or that are completely your imagination. You ask at least three times a day if we’ll read you a book and will settle for a short “snuggle” if we say no. Well, sometimes.

You have started to make friends with Razzie, who has avoided you completely before now. You’ll call “Razzie, Razzie!” in your little high-pitched little girl voice and crouch down just a little bit and hold out your hands. You giggle when Razzie licks your face. You don’t pet Razzie very much since that’s not very fun, but instead play the running game with her. First, you yell for Razzie and run for the back door. Razzie chases you and then you both head back to the living room and then back to the door and back and forth with much stomping and nail clicking and giggling. You are usually really comfortable with all sizes of dogs, telling Ginger (Grandma and Grandpa’s large, pushier dog) “No eating Anna!” matter-of-factly and go about your business. You are very hesitant to go up to an animal you aren’t familiar with and I wonder if you’ll ever decide you want to sit on a horse at the fair or go closer to the glass of some of the zoo exhibits.

You get very excited when we’re having company, especially if it’s a grandparent. You’ll run up and down and declare to us that “I’m so incited!” (excited) You have all of your grandparents wrapped around your finger and knows where all their treats are and what they like to do best that is fun. Grammy has cheese sticks, they’re all good for book-reading and you knows you’re welcome when it’s time to go feed the cats and horses at Grandpa’s. Some of my most precious picture-memories are the sight of you and Grandpa marching out to the barn together. You’ve been doing that from the time you could walk, if you can imagine.

You have made a seamless transition from only child to big sister so far. Maggie is almost six months old and you have become my big helper. You fetch pacifiers, burp rags, diapers, bibs, and your favorite thing to get are clothes for Maggie. You don’t especially enjoy helping me get things, but you rarely decline my request for help and go about it with some small sense of purpose. We tell you often of the things you can do because you aren’t a baby and you like to repeat that you are going to teach Maggie how to sit up and talk and walk and jump and do whatever it is that you happens to be doing right at that moment. You love it when I let you open the snaps on Maggie’s clothes and complains that Maggie is “kicking” or “being too wiggly.” Tonight you brought Brian a bib and told him that you took it off because Maggie had spit up on it. You’re my little Mommy in the making.

I see determination in you. Stubbornness and a strong will. I see you having the strength to make important decisions and stick by them.

I see pride in you. I see that you values things that are done well. I see that you can grow into a person of integrity.

I see compassion in you. You care how others feel and give me a hug and tell me you loves me when I look tired. I see a girl who will grow into a woman of warmth and generosity.

I see perceptiveness and curiosity in you. As you grow, the whole world is going to open up to you.

I see intelligence in you. You aren’t three for a month while I write this and you are sounding out your letters and trying to make words. You will be able to succeed in any academic endeavor.

I see a young mother, a young authoress, a young traveler, a young minister to those in need, a young nurse, a young creator.

We love you, Anna. You are our little girl, the first blessing of God to us, a piece of our hearts and we love you so much and are so proud of you.

Your Mommy and Papa