Time To Pack My Gear for Another Climb

I think my 3 year old daughter is trying to tell me something.

This past week she told me, on two separate occasions, that she wants to live with her friends' family.

She didn't say this in a spiteful way, nor in a sad way. She was just plain content and factual.

The first time, my first response was to tell her that I would miss her so much. To which she replied that we would see each other sometimes at the preschool or Little Gym. I then told her that those times just wouldn't be enough for me and I'd still miss her tons. Then the conversation sort of petered out.

But, truth be told, I was left with a touch of sadness and a curiosity as to what I was doing wrong, or not doing at all, that might have spurred this not-so-secret wish.

The second time she mentioned this I asked her if it had something to do with the big sister in the family. I pursued this avenue because of something else she had said before. She said, yes, she wanted this other girl to be her big sister. I then replied that her real big sister and I would miss her tons, and the conversation went on much like the last one.

Again, I was left a little melancholy. But at least this time I could share the blame with my oldest daughter.

What? Someone has to be the fall guy. And I don't have the time or energy to be taking this all on myself. Why can't I share a little?

The day my 3 year old declared that she wishes she could live with her grandmother that lives close by. Again, we went through the motions in our discussion, and I could discern no clear reason to this series of ideas she had generated. Other than the fact that she really loves her Nonna, and that she lives near a cool park.

Reason enough? Probably not.

Since that day I have been paying close attention to what my daughter is trying to tell me. Fantastical thinking aside, I'm guessing she could really use some more Mommy Time. I have fallen off the wagon again, for which I try not to judge myself and just view it as inevitable with what I have on my plate these days.

Then during a conversation with my oldest, when I learned that she negotiated her way through a potentially sticky situation with a friend in a very thoughtful and confident manner, I realized that she has had a lot of my focus so that she could get to this point. I was so proud to hear how she was sensitive to her friends' needs and tried to resolve the emotional downfall in a fair way.

I patted myself on the back and did a mental victory dance.

Then I cried.

Because I realized that it was very likely that my 3 year old was going to be on the other side of that situation in a few years. She is clearly on her way. Her social skills are practically non-existent unless you are a family member or dear friend, and even then you are likely to not get a hello until she has fully assessed your intentions. And if she then feels wronged in the slightest, she will quietly slip away, and won't return until the coast is clear once again.

She has tunnel vision right now, and I really need to start preparing her for the full horizon so she can negotiate all those sticky social situations that I know await her. I know that she doesn't have to handle them in the same way as her sister. She can and will have her own style. But I think it's time to start fortifying her self-confidence so that she feels at ease with whatever that chosen style may be. Even if it continues to be the quiet type.

So I decided it was time to take on my next human experiment mothering task and focus more on my 3 year old daughter's emotional fortitude. I've climbed this mountain once, I know I can do it again. I just have to have faith in her future and keep moving forward.

And just in case I needed more motivation for this trying trek to the peak of self-confidence, the realization slapped me in the face yesterday. Although my 3 year old is the one left with the marks.

After a long day outside, I looked at her face and saw that she was my only child with little sunburned cheeks. I realized that I managed to get sunscreen (while in the midst of our activity) on the other two kids, but forgot her.

Her sweet little cheeks have sealed the deal.

Time to start devoting more of my efforts so she doesn't get burned in the future.

Goose Bumps Schmoose Bumps

This was the second week in a row that I used a Friday morning to have time with just my 3 year old daughter and myself. If we go to our athletic club, I can check in my son at the day care. Then we can swim and hang out, just her and me. Our activities are a little limited to the pool, but that's not too bad if the weather's nice. And the water is always warm.

It’s sad to say that I could have been doing this MUCH sooner, but hey, better a year late than never. And even if it is only one hour, it’s all hers. Which says a lot when you have three young kids (oh, and don’t forget the dog, like I usually do).

Unfortunately my younger daughter hasn’t had a lot of one-on-one time in the last year. She had a lot when she was an infant and her sister was in preschool. And then that whittled down when she turned two and started preschool herself. And then it pretty much turned to dust when we had our third child a year ago.

Plus, I wasn’t going to be caught dead in a swim suit last summer after having a baby in May. No way, no how.

Anyway, back to the pool. We aren’t having the greatest weather around here lately, although I really shouldn’t be complaining. But the mornings are in the 50’s and overcast, which can make for chilly weather for bathing suits.

After we change out of our long sleeves and pants and into our suits, goose bumps start rippling over my limbs and I am beginning to dread this commitment. The joy and fun from last week’s outing are a distant memory and I am thinking that I’d really rather be reading a magazine exercising all by myself with both kids checked in to the day care.

Then I see a fellow mom friend who remarks that I am brave to take my daughter out in this weather and swim with her myself, without a lesson lined up.

As we get to the pool, one of the instructors in the middle of giving a lesson also calls me brave and says she wouldn’t be here if they weren’t paying her.

These comments are not really building the anticipation for me. Now I really don’t want to be swimming. Bless my daughter’s heart, but it’s not personal. I just want to be warm and lazy. And alone. It’s the end of the week and I’m ready to start a weekend of ‘daddy time’.

But I use my own best advice and buck up.

My daughter and I shed our towels and dip our toes in the water. We agree it’s not bad and then gradually enter the pool.

The 85 degrees washes over us and we swim for shelter in the warm water.

Then the giggles begin. And her radiant smile beams as we swim and splash and play.

I get unsolicited nose kisses and lots of hugs. I smile and laugh as I watch her unhindered love and enthusiasm reveal itself on her face.

She sings made up songs and laughs. She laughs so loud I have to actually tell her to try to laugh a little softer because it’s making an echo and might distract one of the other kids getting lessons.

Then we follow that play time up with a hot shower and a snack.

Perfection.

Yes, I remember why I said I would do this.

Because it’s a great way to start your day.