Eden,
You turned 4 on June 15. Four! You're such a big girl. I know I sound like a broken record, but I cannot believe how fast the time has flown.
Three was... a hard age for you. It's one reason this post took a bit to write, actually, and a reason I've been a bit silent about your development this year. I'll tell you the story of your fourth birthday party, it about sums that up:
We were all excited for your party. You wanted your party in a barn. It's really hard to find a venue with a barn in New England in the summertime. If you'd been born in September, or even July, that would be a piece of cake, but unfortunately most of the farms are still closed for parties in June. So we decided to wing it in our condo complex's clubhouse, and make it feel like a barn. You invited all of your friends from school (for the first time!).
The day of the party, a Sunday, we came home from church and you just... melted down. Epically. You were screaming, hitting, pinching, punching, completely out of control. By the time I got you calmed down, you just fell asleep. It was 12:30. Your party was scheduled for 3:00. We couldn't very well have you wake up from your nap, after that epic situation, and be "rewarded" by an afternoon full of friends and cake and presents, so we made a very difficult decision. We cancelled your party. Gut wrenching and frustrating and sad as it was, we had to call and email everyone on the guest list and tell them there would be no party. And then we had to tell you. You took it better than we expected, but the three additional meltdowns in the next 6 hours told us we'd made the right choice, as terribly difficult as it was. It still brings tears to my eyes to think that you'll never have a fourth birthday party (even as I also know that I have no clue what my own fourth birthday party was!).
You've unfortunately spent a lot of time in the last year in tears, in tantrums, in screaming fits. One day in October you refused to get dressed and I had to take you to preschool stark naked. You screamed at the top of your lungs the whole way there, and I carried you in, barely covered in a blanket, no clue what to do. The teachers (mortified, I'm sure) immediately asked if I needed help, I squeaked out a yes, and as soon as they asked if you'd like to get dressed, you complied.
Yes, it's been a difficult year.
BUT.
It's also been a time of incredible growth and development. And I'm happy to say (tentatively) that I think we're looking backward on that year. I continue to constantly be amazed at the little lady you've become on the other side.
In preparation for your birthday party, you helped me make invitations. You love being creative, and jump at the chance to do something crafty or help bake; last weekend we made a cake. You sit at the bar and help stir, help crack eggs, help measure flour, and it's very sweet how concentrated and careful you are.
You are starting to use your imagination (which you are happy to announce you're doing - "I'm using my imagination, Mommy!") and play alone or with us (or your friends at school). Right now your favorite things to do are to play princesses (which almost always involves a wedding) and "MommyDaddyBaby" (which often involves babysitting). Objects are never what they appear to be; they always stand for something else, which drives your concrete father a bit nuts but makes me so excited.
(Proudly showing off your "car")
You've also started playing board games, which is very fun for Daddy and me - we love that we can all three sit together and play Candyland or Chutes and Ladders. (Incidentally, you have crazy luck - you almost ALWAYS win, which is so odd, because they're games of chance, with no skill involved!)
(Cootie!)
We are constantly amazed at what you're learning right now, in a more academic manner. You know all your letters (just tonight I noticed that you can start in the middle of the alphabet and recite from there, without singing the song) and their sounds, and you're starting to put words together a bit. You know all of your numbers too, and recently you've started doing basic addition and subtraction.
(Family walk around the neighborhood)
You are a little bit timid, taking time to warm up to every situation, even the preschool you attend five days a week. But once you warm up, you're right in the mix, excited and chattering away.
(Rock on, girlfriend!)
You are an incredible big sister. That is one thing that, even in your hardest, most difficult moments, never goes away. You LOVE Leah. You don't always want her up in your business, true, but you are (usually) kind about it. And if she's upset, you're the first to try to fix it. And she loves you, too. One of my favorite moments of the day is when we wake Leah up and get her out of her crib, and she immediately heads to your room, lifts up your covers (you sleep completely under them) and gives you a big hug. You will squint open one eye, then throw your arm around her, and she'll climb into your bed for a snuggle. I stand in the doorway and watch it unfold, thankful for two sweet little girls.
(Educating Leah about the giraffes at the zoo)
Today, Eden, was a great day. You were so good. You cleaned your room all by yourself, we played two games of Hi Ho Cherry-O, you transitioned from activity to activity without protest. We went for a walk, you skinned your knee (galloping in Crocs - not a good idea) and were so brave when I cleaned it. You kissed Leah goodnight and rubbed her head. You sat still while I braided your hair (because you wanted it "curly" tomorrow). And I thought, Three is gone. Four is here. And I am so glad. I know this year won't be perfect, and it will have its ups and downs, but you're in SUCH a better place.
(Ice cream date with Mommy)
I love you so incredibly much, girlie. I know that things are not always going to be easy, and I embrace that, because it shows that you're a strong individual. You know what you want, and I know that will serve you very well later in life. And I love that about you.
(Checking out the swings at the church!)
You're awesome, kid, and I can't wait for tomorrow.
Love,
Mommy
