Mind the Gap

Dear Sava,

There are so many good things to say about you and your growth over these past two years, but it's hard to find the time to sit down and enter it all since you have become a little firecracker of a child.

First: You love doggies. This is for certain. You love acting like dogs, you love petting every dog that passes you on the street, you love talking about dogs, and you have upwards of 25 stuffed "lovies" that are dogs. (Some are debatably bears, but you insist they are dogs.) Some of their names: Blacka, Snow, Bagel, Rose, Slobber, Poodle, BrownWhitea, Yellow, ... I lose track, but you have a name for each of them.

Second: You love being a girl. Everything you play with is a girl. You only wear dresses, you flat out refuse to wear shorts, pants or t-shirts, and if your shoes are not pristine and beautiful, you flip your lid. Of course, since you also love me, you've decided wearing flip flops for special walks and hikes is pretty okay.

You can hike to the tops of all the local mountains, you love playing in water (hot springs, rivers, lakes), you adore bugs (catching, holding, entrapping, squishing), especially moths, and you have more energy and creativity than any child could.

But, all this beautiful and creative energy is sometimes misplaced and you can become a very difficult person as well. Here is a little hint of that side of yourself from an email I sent to your mother just a few moments ago.

"Erin,

She's been awake for 40 minutes and already I'm at the end of my tolerance. I made hersausage n eggs + apple slices and waffle breakfast. She spit the apples everywhere. She ate the waffle and refused to eat the eggs. I had to coax her into taking a couple bites by allowing her to kill a bee. She put her dishes in the sink, all but three bites of the eggs, and started asking for sweets.

I asked her to get dressed in order to take Nico on a walk in the mountains. No. I got her clothes and laid them out. She won't get dressed. I asked if I needed to start giving her little spankings to remind her to listen to me. She had an all out temper tantrum freakout session, cry-shouting for you out the windows as if she were being murdered in our house. I closed the door. Now she's laying on her closet floor naked, wailing and refusing to stand up, get dressed or come with me.

I swear, some days I just want to quit.

Ugh. "

While I'm writing this you came down, sat in my lap, asked me to read what I was writing, and kissed my face 30 times.

It's been quite a ride. I think a little brother is going to do you well.

Love Daddy