How I wonder what you are

Today, it was pretty much all about Sweet Pea.

She really enjoyed the few minutes she spent at her preschool, and she's quite proud and excited that she will be going to a "school" like her big sister, Punkin. Of course, getting her out of the school was a bit of a challenge. She wanted to stay and play. Hell, they had a big tote filled with dirt that the kids could scoop and pour and play with. Who wouldn't want to stay?!

The teachers were surprised at how outgoing and social she is, and seemed genuinely pleased to be getting her in their class. One of the teachers was there when Sweet Pea was in their infant room when she was just a baby. At that time, this teacher referred to Sweet Pea as "Baby Taz" because Sweet Pea always seemed to be moving quickly and getting into everything. Her going into preschool will be interesting, no doubt about it.

Our Sweet Pea can be a "button-pusher". As I was writing the check to secure a spot for her at the end of August, she proceeded to have a fit because we were leaving. The only thing that got her to stop was me quietly and calmly suggesting that if she were to continue with the way she was behaving, the school might not let her come back. Less than three seconds later, she was smiling and waving and saying "Good bye! See you later!" to the teachers.

Did I mention she's three years old?

Moments later, her finger got crunched in the van door. Good LORD, do I feel horrible about that. I shut the door at the same time she reached around from inside and grabbed the door frame. Not one of my finer parenting moments. Thankfully, it was just some broken skin, but nothing worse. Still... gah!

We made it home, took care of her finger, had lunch, then I left for work. Hubby tells me the kids were ok the rest of the afternoon, but they had their moments of not listening and general crankiness. Neither of the kidlets had naps. That little fact effected Sweet Pea more than Buddy. She was pretty challenging, right up until she was put to bed. Her last timeout (around 7:30pm) landed her in her room for the remainder of the night. It took her quite a long time to calm down. I think she dozed for a bit. We went in to say our "good nights" to her a little bit later, after her brother and sister were also in bed.

We helped her into her pajamas and tucked her in. She asked me to sing a song to her.

Twinkle, twinkle Little Star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so bright
Like a diamond in the night
Twinkle, twinkle Little Star
How I wonder what you are

I gave her hugs and kisses, told her I loved her and sang the song as she twisted a lock of her hair from the top of her head around and around -- that's her "I'm tired" 'tell'.

I love that kid so very much, sometimes it feels... almost futile.

She can be SO very challenging. We love her with all our hearts, and we try to teach her to behave properly, how to treat people like she would want to be treated, we try to teach her respect for others and herself, and it just doesn't seem to sink in at all. Some days, it seems she takes every opportunity to virtually smack us in the face.

Then, there are quiet moments like tonight. Times when it's just the two of us at the end of the day and she's already drowsy and she just looks so little and she's twirling that lock of hair on the top of her head (something she's done since she was a baby), and the little nightlight makes her big brown eyes all that much bigger and I want to scoop her up and hold her forever.

And it's those moments I want to record and show her later, when she's older, maybe when she's a teenager so she'll know that we really really really do love her, because honestly, sometimes, I'm so afraid that she won't see that and we'll lose her to all the horrible things that are out there.

Some people that know Sweet Pea in real life tell me to pray and pray hard about her. And, I do. I pray that some day, I'll be able to get through to her. I pray that she'll someday use her button-pushing powers for good, and that we can help her find a way to let less of the "fiesty" and more of the "good" show through. I also pray because I just don't know what else to do some days.


eclectic said...

Oh boy, do I know that feeling! She'll be fine because you DO love her, and ultimately that will guide her choices and how she feels about herself.

Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

The only way to go forward with any child, is to put it in park.

Doug said...

I think each of us parents who really care went through the same thing. The "terrible twos" sometimes last 'til three or four.
I pray that Sweet Pea straightens up and begins to fly right quite soon.

lawbrat said...

I'm understanding way too much. Some children are easier than others, yet the work is well worth it. You're doing a great job, and the sweetness of her just shines through. Its going to be wonderful to see where life takes her- its going to be good.

Circus Kelli said...

Thanks, Eclectic. I hope you're right.

Bloggy -- hmm. Thank you.

Doug -- Me, too, Doug.

Lawbrat -- Thank you for that, Dawn.

mrtl said...

It's good to know I'm not the only one. Bug had fallen and was crying. I picked her up for a hug, and when I stood, I donked her head on the slanted ceiling. Worst off, there was a witness. Mary was here.

Missed you!

Susie said...

Some "internet kids" are in my heart. Sweet Pea has always been one of them. She has a special spark. She'll glow brilliantly someday (if you can just keep her from torching the place in the meantime ;)

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