My mackerdoodle continues to amaze me daily. Some days it’s hard to remember that she’s only three, especially when she comes out with some of these things.
Several of the children in our neighborhood ride their bikes around the circle at the top of the cul-de-sac in the afternoons. The mackerdoodle was doing really well, and then suddenly, she stopped and refused to bike any more. I was frustrated at what I thought was laziness and knelt beside her, asking her what was wrong. She looked me in the eye and said, “I’m upset because my daddy’s never here to see me go around.” I was the only mother on the circle at the time. I didn’t know whether to be heart broken or stunned that my three year old had that sort of self awareness and articulation! I settled for both, and I didn’t push her to ride her bike any more. She hasn’t ridden it since.
Today she was looking through the church directory from our church in Georgia (which, in and of itself is entertaining) and I couldn’t drag her away from it. She kept going from Ms. Nikki, to Ms. Jennifer, to Abigail and then back to Ms. Jennifer and I had to look each time and affirm that the person was the person. Finally I told her it was enough, and she flipped the book away from herself saying, “I miss Abigail! I want to go back to our real church and our real house. This not a house! It a partment.”
Fortunately, it’s not all dickensian pathos, though.
This evening I was making the beds up with clean sheets when the children heard a train going by. I gave them permission to go upstairs and watch it, thinking that by the time the cheesedoodle made it up the stairs, the train would be gone. I was wrong. I got all three beds made up before I heard the mackerdoodle at the top of the stairs. She asked if I was still down there (where was I going to go?) and when I affirmed I was, she started coming down the stairs. “Did you see the train, baby girl?” I asked. “Yeah,” she responded. “It backed up a lot, so that was strange.”
I wonder what the next few years will bring? I just can’t even begin to imagine. I think I’ll take it one day at a time.