37 Months

Dear Sophia

I'd like to start this letter with a replay of a conversation we had in the car about an hour ago.

Sophie: Mommy will you tell Daddy to shut his mouth.

Daddy: SOPHIA, you do NOT tell daddy to shut his mouth, that is NOT nice.

Sophie: But daddy, I didn't tell you to shut your mouth, I told mommy to tell you for me.

I can pretty much stop right there. Because that little exchange sums up what it's like living with you these days.  Smart as a whip and bold as lightening. And I know that it's horrible that you know the phrase "shut your mouth" but oh how your quick wit and logic thrills me to no end. You are without a doubt a.piece.of.work. 

The past month has been beyond difficult. I couldn't count the nights you went to bed without getting to tell your daddy goodnight. Or the mornings you woke up without getting to tell him good morning. It's been hard because you are such a daddy's girl. But come Thursday morning you were walking on sunshine. "Tax season is OVER," you'd yell at the top of your lungs.

We took you to breakfast Thursday morning to celebrate then daddy took you on to school. And that's where the wheels started falling off the wagon. As soon as he pulled into the parking lot you started. "My belly hurts, I don't want to go to school today." When he walked you into your room and turned to walk away you lost it. Went completely boneless and forgot to even breath. I guess in your 3 year old mind, tax season being over meant that daddy didn't have to work anymore, period. 

But Thursday evening he treated you to a special trip to Build-A-Bear, where you made a Snow White Bear that you named Ariel to match your Snow White princess dress so you were back to walking on sunshine. 

You've become such a big kid overnight. It pains your daddy when you call him "dad." You also call me "Ma" and GiGi "G."  And Reggie. Poor sweet Reggie. The newness of him has yet to wear off. I thought for sure that within a month he'd be nothing but an annoying spec intruding on your space. But he's still being loved "to death" with your tight embraces. And you've got the claw marks to prove it. You remind me that he needs fresh water and when his food dish is empty. You truly care for that cat. Actually, you seem to genuinely care about any animal that you come into contact with. 

So happy 37 months Little Bit. It's been a looooong hard month for both of us. But we made it through and look we're still speaking to one another. So see, I'm calling it now, there's hope for your teenage years.

Love, with all my heart, 

Mama.