"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." ~e e cummings

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

sweet, silly, sassy, and six

This child.

I swear. She kills me on the daily.

Her spunk, her sass.

Her sweetness. Her wit.

Her style.
My God, her style.

I literally don't know where she gets it.

A friend asked me the other day, as we watched our kids practice for the school Variety Show, "Does Molly pick out her own clothes?" I looked up at Molly on stage. She had on a blue plaid flannel shirt, worn unbuttoned over a pink waffle-knit tee, navy blue and silver knee socks pulled up over leopard print leggings, and hot pink cowboy boots to complete the look.

"What gave it away?" I laughed.

Molly puts together outfits, not by coordinating colors or patterns, but by telling a story..."Leopards are animals and animals live outside and outside the sky is blue and at night time the stars come out and they're shiny like silver. Oh! And these boots sound like clip clop in the hallway like horses."

House Rule: as long as it's reasonably appropriate for the season, we don't pick fights over clothes. It's a mantra that goes back to Max's skirt-wearing days: In our house, we wear what we like.

And Molly knows exactly what she likes.

Especially when it comes to accessories.

She has a self-confidence and a sense of adventure that I'm not used to.
This kid will try anything.

Well...except new foods. Mealtime diversity is still a work in progress.
She recently told her class that she could eat 100 pieces of seaweed. 
Mmmkay, honey. I've literally watched her pick individual grains of rice out of her cucumber roll in order to avoid accidentally eating anything but the rice but, you go on and eat your 100 pieces of seaweed, babe.

I love her enthusiasm.

She is JOY-full.

And she is FIERCE. 
Don't mess with this one.

And if you couldn't already tell, she's also funny as hell.

Her signature joke: 
What do you call a pongomino?
A watermelon! 

At dinner one night, I was telling the kids the highlights of their pregnancy and birth stories. I was trying to describe the pure magic that was carrying them...I told them how I would lay on the couch at night, late in each pregnancy, and we would just stare at my belly, waiting for the nightly show to begin...we'd see a head bulge out one side of my belly, then a foot swoosh across the middle. We'd feel the pointy jab of a fist or knee then watch my whole belly roll like a wave as the baby somersaulted.

Evan made a face like, "Ew." Max gazed in wonder. Molly sighed happily and said, "When I'm a mommy, I'll be a mommy to my animals and I'll burn them all."

We all stared, shocked...confused, until Max, Molly's interpreter, helpfully translated: "OH! HAHAHAHAHA! She means she wants the animals to grow in her tummy instead of babies. Molly, you don't 'born' babies, you HAVE babies. And you can't have animals like babies. That's just...science."

She calls do-overs "re-overs." She still pronounces it "nuffing" instead of nothing and "free" instead of three. I find myself impersonating her voice all the time, it's so damn cute. She has this adorable way of over-pronouncing vowels and completely mixing up consonants that just kills me. The speech teacher and her kindergarten teacher assure me it's developmental...that she'll grown out of it. Is it wrong to hope that she doesn't? Seriously. Her voice is just that cute. Can just that part of her stay little forever?

The other day, I was lecturing the kids on gratitude and said, "We should all realize how lucky we are." Molly said, "Why are we lucky?" I kinda went a little nuts frantically naming all the things we have and should be thankful for until Molly again cut in: "Lucky? Like, gross?" Confused, I said, "Gross?" Max, once again, to the rescue: "No, Molly, LLLLucky, not YYYYucky!" "Oh!" Molly realized, "Lucky! Like good! Not Lucky like gross." Potayto, Potahto, I suppose.

She can't pronounce Ys....but it's been more than a week since she tiptoed into our room in the middle of the night. More than a week since she climbed up onto our bed, curled up against the curve of my back, twirled a strand of my hair around her finger, and breathed a sweet, sleepy exhale on the back of my neck.

More than a week, the longest stretch of her life, that she didn't need me to help her fall back to sleep.

Sometimes, these past few nights....I've missed her.

I knew it the moment she was born: Molly perfectly completes this trio.

At various times so similar to each of her brothers, who could not be more different, Molly embodies the widest personality range of our three kids. Headstrong, serious, and always lost in a book like Evan; imaginative, affectionate, and prone to dramatic outbursts like Max, she is the perfect blend of two perfect opposites.

She is the black and white seeds within the yin-yang of her brothers.
Equal parts Column A and Column B, creating her own, beautiful Column C.

She completes us.

Lesson Learned:
To my baby of babies...

As a parent, observing the effects of the passage of time on all of my children is bittersweet. Watching you grow, though, is the hardest of all. As I snuggled beside you at bedtime last night, I whispered to you, "This is the last time I'll snuggle with my 5-year old girl!" But it's more than that. Starting today, I'll never have a 5-year old child ever again. As you outgrow each stage, our whole family outgrows it with you. You are our bookend, our final chapter.

I love this stage you're in now, though. This sweet spot. This big enough to hang (reasonably well) through late bedtimes and long road trips. Old enough to run around outside with the neighborhood kids but young enough to still come and find me for a boo-boo kiss. You've discovered the magic of reading and you can tackle just about any craft project independently. You are gentle, you are brave. You are tenderness and light. You are humor, you are grace, you are persistent determination.

You are capable.
You are strong.
You are enough.

Beautiful girl.
Beautiful soul.

Happy birthday, my love.

1 comment :

  1. Beautifully put.

    Our own third child very much completed the set. With the two, we always knew there would be on more and B is so gorgeously _present_ in our family. Without him, we'd be missing someone. And now our youngest is 8 and still climbs into bed with us on some nights, and we still don't have the heart to kick him out.