Four

This is how I want to remember these early days of her fourth year of life: napping in her super-girl costume, old enough to put up a good fight for every nap, yet still young enough to fall asleep cuddling "Dolly" and "Baby Keller", staple companions of her sleepy-time routine pretty much since birth.

I'm not sure just how often Matt and I look at each other these days and sigh in either frustration and/or amusement, saying "She's so four". Her eagerness to learn is mighty, asking followup questions about everything she hears and sees (scaaaary!). She's eager to produce, content to sit at the dining room table and "art" for a while. The dress up bag is dragged out daily, yet mostly just the ballerina outfits are donned in regular rotation based upon which one Mom has not snuck away for a much needed cleaning.

Tantrums are frequent, although I've found that in quiet, gentle moments they can be soothed with patient reasoning. She wants to comply and often distances herself from what she calls "fussy Karis", mimicking what her voice sounds like when the tired alter ego appears.

Questions about deeper things in life seem to come up once she's gloriously tucked in bed, the lights are turned off, and I'm headed straight for relaxation-ville. "Mom, do some people not have food to eat?" I heard her belt out in dark silence from her bed the other night. I sensed a tone of genuine contemplation that told me this was important. I went into her room, and she followed up with, "So when are we going to take them food?" Good, good question, dear. She proceeded to look around the room naming all the things we could give to people who are in need, stopping only at her cd player to deem it off limits because, as she said, "I like music." And that she does.

She's eager to make a new companion at the playground. Her habit of calling new playmates "friend" despite their repeated telling her their name is something we're working on (but secretly love and makes us giggle when we hear it). We're prepping her for school which starts in a few weeks: practicing raising our hands, listening to others, starting conversations with new people, respecting authority, asking for help, etc. She's the kind of kid that thrives on organized activity, so I know she's just going to love it.

Truth be told, she's just so four, and we couldn't be more in love. Happy fourth, little one.

Farmers market

 

 

Thankful Friday

The little bits of sun peeking through the dense smoke clouds have been a welcome change today compared to the last few days. It's felt a little bit like the end of the world around here lately because of the nearby wildfires burning hard and fast. Still I remind myself being home-bound because of smoke certainly pales in comparison to being homeless due to a fire.

My pepper plants are cranking out jalapenos and datils every few days. I'm loving growing these hardy plants as they boost my confidence in growing food, something I've had little luck with in the past. My own tolerance for heat in food is growing respectively as well. A whole, fresh-sliced jalapeno thrown on a fajita, seeds not removed? Yes, please.

I'm thankful for the wishful eyes with which my daughter pleaded with me yesterday after her bath to pretend she was a "wedding bride" and to throw pretend flowers on her as she walked through her bedroom doorway, wrapped in a towel and hair still dripping. I have not encouraged this sort of girl-y dreaming and wistful fantasizing about getting married. Somehow it's just in her DNA, and I love that about her.

Summer snapshots

I unloaded my camera today, and I noticed things are looking quite summery around here. What do you think?

 

The cold, sweet leftovers from making homemade coffee ice cream. Her favorite part of this process is most definitely the clean up.

A table full of stickers, crayons, colored pencils, and art projects. Karis says she is "art-ing". I think it's a useful verb.

 Bug-bitten legs in plaid shorts. Summer essentials for any almost four-year-old.

Hatching butterflies and curious onlookers. The painted ladies weren't as fun to watch transform as last year's black swallowtail butterflies, but it was fun nonetheless.

What's not to love

A husband who gives up 30 minutes of his Sunday afternoon to fulfill a promised guitar lesson to a neighbor.

A young neighbor who remembers the promised guitar lesson and shows up with guitar in hand, eager to learn (and quite quick at learning, I might add).

A 3-year-old girl who watches and listens quietly with her guitar in hand only to insist upon having her own private lesson once the neighbor leaves, complete with music worksheets she can't read.

A husband who, persuaded by tearful pleading, gives up 30 minutes for another guitar lesson.

A dog who insists on sitting in the middle of a mess of chair legs, dangling feet, and music stands, just to be where the action is.

Body slams, rhythm, and parenting

Matt has an wonderful ability to parent out of who he is and his interests. I took note of this yesterday as he and Karis moved from one activity to the next. First they "wrestled" for a good 30 minutes, while he showed her wrestling moves to defend herself. Side note: He loves to watch UFC wrestling on tv, and the first few times he watched it around her I was nervous that it was too violent or inappropriate for her. I walked by a little later to find her snuggled up to him as he explained the ins and outs of professional fighting. She was very intrigued by the sport.

Later last night I walked in the office to find her sitting in his lap as he pounded on the djembe (African drum). She shares his love for music and drumming, and together they were drumming along to Cee Lo Green. Then, without skipping a beat, they stood up and finished with a spirited dance party. Hands in the air, feet moving to the beat, they danced around in circles in a small corner of our cluttered office. I can take a few cues from this guy's parenting style.

In the last 5 weeks...

 

I turned 32. Matt arranged weekend babysitting, and we took a day trip to Savannah. It was fun roaming the old streets, popping in and out of adorable home design shops, and stuffing our faces at the mouth-watering Zunzi's. We'd like to go again soon and stay longer.

Karis and E experienced their first sleepover. E stayed the night with us, and everything went so smoothly. Her father and I both had visions of late night phone calls over a homesick 3-year-old. Well, nothing of the sort. There was dinner, play time, a car ride to get ice cream in their pajamas, a little giggling before bed, then uninterrupted sleep all night. Success by any standard.

I have taken over the doing the finances for Matt, and there has been much weeping and gnashing of teeth from this creative and disorganized right brain girl. Sure, there have been some insufficient funds transfers and one late electric bill, but I'm proud to say it's finally starting to make sense. By golly, with Quicken and coffee, I'm getting it.

Karis is growing up before our very eyes. She's asking deep, honest questions about the world around her. Yesterday we talked about heaven and honeybees. Today was cows and the milk they make. "Why" is never a single question. It's guaranteed to be followed up with further investigation. To my delight, she is becoming a much more willing photography subject. I pulled out my camera today, and she zoomed right up to me, stood straight, and smiled. I would have given anything for that willingness a year and half ago.