It’s tough being four…

My daughter is four-years-old! She has been for about two months now…or as she would say, she is: “one, two, fwee, FOUR!”.

I forget how quickly she’s growing…until she reminds me. πŸ™‚

Or until I look back on pictures from two years ago when we first moved to New England. At that time, she still had the chubby little bottom from wearing diapers, she was still practically bald (her hair didn’t realize it was supposed to grow until within the last year!). She still had that teetering run where you hold your breath and just wait for the fall…which sometimes happened, but more often was barely avoided.

But now. Now. Well, she’s an independent little girl with a whole lot of attitude.

Her hair is halfway down her back, and to my delight, she still has her curls. In fact, we usually let her hair dry naturally after her baths because it fluffs up and frames her face in the most angelic way. ADORABLE!

And she loves to dress herself. We sometimes walk out of the house in a purple shirt, an orange skirt and pink cowgirl boots on the wrong feet…but she is proud to say she dressed herself. And I’m happy to let her tell the whole world that, yes ma’am, she dressed herself.

Usually though, in all honesty, she’s quite good at picking out her outfits. I don’t know where she gets her fashion sense, but it sure didn’t come from me. Poor thing. She has a mother who avoided skirts, dresses, frills and all other such “feminine” things clear through junior high and high school. Partially because I was too busy chasing after my brothers, and partially because I knew full well I had no fashion sense and I didn’t want to embarass myself by trying. Which probably means I’ll be quite good at embarrassing her!

I guess I’m just going to have to make sure she has good role models around her who do have good — yet modest — fashion sense. *sigh* Or maybe I should start reading the teen fashion magazines!?!

And then there’s her laugh.

When Abigail was born, she had this wonderful, throaty, raspy cry. It was so cute that sometimes I wanted to pinch her in her sleep just so that I could hear her cry.

I didn’t…
but I wanted to…

And I hoped that her voice would keep some of that throaty, raspy quality. So far, I’m not able to tell if her voice has or not. But recently, she has started laughing at her brother’s silly antics with this belly laugh that reminds me of her sweet baby cry. There are no words to accurately describe it. But I love it. And she only laughs like that around her brother.

So I eavesdrop on their conversations hoping to her that laugh.

Four. Really?

Four still seems so young, so tiny. She still has tiny little fingers and tiny little toes. Her face is still wonderfully round and cherub-like. Not the defined features that her brother is growing into.

I’m not ready for her to grow up yet. She’s my baby.

Baby. That term frustrates her…

She’s only four, for crying out loud. She’s still my baby!

Whenever I call her my baby, she’ll say, in an exasperated tone, Mommy, I’m NOT a baby! I’m a big girl.

I know you are, baby.


About Sarah

I love being wife to my sweetie, mama and teacher to my three wonderful children, and friend to people near and far. I love to express myself through words. I blog to connect with others and so that someday, hopefully, my kiddos will understand who their mama was...way back when.
This entry was posted in Birthdays, family, Kids, Parenting. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to It’s tough being four…

  1. Jenn says:

    What a sweet blog!

  2. Cute post. Yes, we have realized we’ll be right across from you. We are looking foward to all the memories at seminary. πŸ™‚

  3. Mama D says:

    Boy, it is a good thing that we did the Rice milk with Caleb! Maybe you should tell him that Gigi eats soy alllllllll the time!!! That will be a ‘brain teaser’ for him, won’t it. ……ok, Mom, remember Mr. Brandon can’t have soy tonight, but we need to have some for Gigi, can we do that Mom? How are you going to manage that? We will have to be sure to tell Mr. Brandon he shouldn’t eat ‘that’ because it is for Gigi and she eats soy…just not meat’… I can hear your kitchen when we get there. Feel free to have Mr. Brandon over then as well…We will make room! Abby can use her table! Great post…we are having a ball reading them.
    Love you guys and see you soon!

  4. Mama D says:

    OK, I think I am on the correct section now…

    So you’re saying that we should be careful about calling her ‘baby’ then… Prentice tells me the same thing, so does Carolina, so does Autumn, Caleb doesn’t seem to care either way! I must not call Brett, Jr. baby because I don’t remember him complaining! Wait until I tell her I have 60 babies! My kinders ask why I call ‘them’ babies! What a hoot! I will try and remember that she is a big girl now, even though I don’t like the idea. While I like all the new things they do, say, achieve, learn, try, accomplish….I sure do miss those cuddle up on your shoulder and fall asleep days! One day, she will understand!!!

  5. Mom says:

    Oh, our precious little Abby – reminds me so of when her Mommy was little – – –
    *:-) sigh*

  6. you wanted to pinch her in her sleep?

    remind me not to ask parenting advice from you!

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