Anika - FOUR

Anika,

You are officially four now. Last week marked your birthday and you were oh so very excited about it. You’ve been asking “Is it my birthday today?” for the last few weeks, after I told you your birthday was coming up. We had your party at Avery Park. You picked a fairy theme, and all the girls were dressed in ribbon tutus, green glitter wings, with glitter ribbon wands. I made some red felt gnome hats for the boys too. Needless to say, you were a little confused when I woke you up on your birthday morning (after your party) and told you it was your birthday. You exclaimed “I’m FIVE now!!” Whoa there… slow down munchkin!

You also had your birthday ceremony at school, in which your classmates and teachers acknowledged and celebrated each of your four years of life. The lights were shut off, all the students made a circle around you, and in the center was a large candle to symbolize the sun. Carrying the globe, you walked inside the circle as everyone counted the months of the year four times. After each year, another smaller candle was lit and placed around the sun candle at four points.

Your story was read outloud:

“This is the sun. The earth goes around the sun. It takes one whole year for the earth to go all the way around the sun. Four years ago today, Anika was born.

During the first year, she learned to laugh, sit, eat and walk, all by herself! - And then she was one.

During the second year she painted, colored, danced, ran around everywhere - and then she was two.

During the third year she met her brother, Kaden, did her first somersault, moved into a new house - and then she was three.

During the fourth year, she started school, rode a bicycle, wrote her name, met new friends - and then she was four.

Today, Anika is four years old.”

“Happy Birthday” was sung and everyone came up to you in turn to give a hug and well wish, including me, at which point I started to cry a little.

It was so sweet and meaningful, which is exactly as it should be.

The past year has brought so many changes. I’ll try to capture as many as I can in this entry. You have grown up so much.

First, you are sharing so well now. At three, it seemed all I heard from you was “mine.” My toys, my food, my time, my space. Sharing, borrowing, and trading, ideas so nebulous in the past, are now more clear to you. Not that you always share, or are always happy about it, but you understand when its necessary and why its necessary. You play well with your friends and family, and have lost much of your bossy edge. I’d say you are now moving into manipulating more to get what you want, rather than demanding it. I’m not sure if this is good or bad, but it shows some kind of growth I’m sure.

The speech classes you’ve been taking all year have been helpful. Your articulation, and more importantly your willingness to do so, continues to improve. You can say /s/, /f/, and /v/ quite succinctly, but have to be reminded to use them. If left to your own devices, you’d replace them with /w/ every time. Even now, when I’ll say “ssssssssister” after you misspeak, you’ll respond with “ssssssssssssswister”. In your mind, /w/ is the replacement sound. It just is. It’s taking us a long time to break these ingrained habits. Just as in everything, you are going to do it your way first, even if it’s the wrong way.

You are still very stubborn. I’ve had to learn to be firm with you, and consistent. I try to be mostly impassive about it, explaining that consequences just are what they are. If you yell at me, there isn’t going to be any TV after dinner. And that’s that. I try and use natural consequences whenever possible as well. If you can’t pick up your toys when asked, then you must not want them! I actually haven’t thrown anything out, but have threatened it a few times. In actuality, you are pretty good about behaving, but you sure do holler and make your displeasure about doing so universally known (just ask our neighbors!).

I’ve been trying to pinpoint your favorite toys. When you do play, you enjoy your Thomas trains, PlayMobil people/animals, Legos/blocks, dolls and your stuffed bunny, Pillow. You love crafts of all kinds, and are quite proficient with a pen. But honestly, your favorite and most frequently played with toy is your imagination. All of your physical toys are just props for the scene. In your worlds, the tree boughs are your lair. A rolled up blanket is a train. A chair is a castle wall or a cage. A stick is a sword, a magic wand, a laser gun, a gate, a line in a letter, a conductor’s wand, a unicorn horn. You are a dinosaur, a princess, a mommy, a baby, a lion or its tamer. What a wonderful, exciting place to be, firmly grounded in the imaginary. I do miss it.

Frolicking Fairies

If you could, you would live outside. Or at least play outside the entire day. I am not exaggerating. Your teachers corroborate this fact as well. You are such an active girl. You run everywhere. You jump everywhere. You ride everywhere. Even after a morning of playing outside at school, you come home, eat lunch, and want to go outside again. We built a play structure last month and you couldn’t have been more excited.

Determined to succeed at the monkey bars on one of our many visits to Wildcat Park

Besides sliding, swinging, climbing, and spying for pirates atop your crow’s nest, you also like playing/attempting basketball, soccer, baseball, hopscotch, and jump rope. Your bicycle is by far your most treasured outside accessory. I sometimes wish we lived in a neighborhood with flat, paved streets, so you could ride safely right now. I’m sure we’ll let you free range later, but with a sloping gravel road, and busy thoroughfare at its end, we’ll keep you and your bicycle close for now. We take frequent trips to Bald Hill, and you ride very well with confidence. Maybe we’ll try and take off your training wheels this summer. You start Lil’ Kickers next week too, and swimming classes start at the end of the month. Looks like you’ll be going to the summer program at Montessori too. This summer is going to be busy!

We had your school conference a few weeks ago,  in which we learned your routines and activities at school that you enjoy. Your teacher said you were “socially focused” and I couldn’t agree more. You want to be with people. You want company. You have two best friends at school. Every day you wait to sit with one of them at the tables or beside them in circle and you really don’t want to sit with anyone else. Earlier in the year, when you’d come home from school upset for some reason, I’d find out it was because someone didn’t want to sit with you, or someone took your spot. You love your friends, and are very interested in their actions, dislikes, and likes.

You are an excellent helper, and are willing to try almost anything.

I am very proud of your writing capabilities. You can write nearly all the letters of the alphabet, upper and lower. Not in cursive, as Maria Montessori would have liked, but we’ll work on that. You can write your first and last names by heart, as well as Mommy, Daddy, Kaden, To, From and are well on your way to many others. You seem insatiable in terms of letters. You want to know how letters sound and also you want me to read everything to you. You are attempting to sound out words, but with limited success. I think it’s just great that you want to try. You are well on your way to learning to read. You'll sit through quite lengthy books too, very much enthralled with the story. You are also enjoying drawing, especially drawing people. Without my prompting, you draw very detailed faces and bodies with eyes, eyebrows, ears, cheeks, noses, mouths, hair, arms, legs, fingers, and clothes. You can also draw flowers with outlined petals and leaves, which you color in. Your teacher said this was advanced for your age.

According to your teachers, your other favorite activities at school are playing outside, painting, knot tying, sewing cards, eating snack, geometrical shapes, the brown stairs, pink tower, and the sandpaper letters. And playing outside. I am extremely happy with our decision to put you in a Montessori preschool. It is a great fit for you, my self-motivated, independent, and brave girl. I think about the first day you attended, and how they had prepared us for a few tears, told us to just drop you off and go because it would be an easier transition. That sure never happened with you. That first day, you didn't even say goodbye, nor turned around - just headed inside and got to work. We’ll be continuing for the fourth year, and maybe the fifth as well.

In terms of being a sister, you are supportive and tolerant (if begrugingly so) of Kaden, and have been a great mentor to him. It was one of our best decisions to have two children. Especially because you are so fond of the company of others. Kaden is a wonderful companion, and has helped teach you patience, cooperation, and empathy. I can't wait to see what's in store for you two.

Always willing to lend a helping hand

           

Things to work on:

Your competitive nature. You pitch historical fits when you don’t win. Everything is a race to you. Getting dressed, going down the stairs, eating breakfast, getting your shoes on, getting in the car… Being competitive is a healthy trait, but sportsmanship is just as important. And you also can't be the winner, if no one else is playing. We are trying to teach you that you cannot always win, you cannot always be first. You will lose. Sometimes, someone will get to the bottom of the stairs faster than you. Such is life.

Little blips you've said or done that I want to remember, sequentially from Years 3-4:

Ryan: “Whew! I’m pooped!”

Anika: “You pooped in your pants daddy? Oh dear….”

"Scuze me! I burped mommy. It came from my butt.”

"Sorry I can’t [....]! I busy right now!"

Something isn’t ever just special, it’s "Special Special"

Anika, outside playing Red Light/Green Light: "Red light!" (stops) "Green light!" (Runs fast) "Yellllllllllllloooooooooooow liiiiiiiiiiigggggght goooooooooooo sloooooooooowwwwwwwwwly..." as you walk in slow motion, and said this in a slow motion, low voice.

At the end of a long day: “I think my legs want to watch TV.”

Or one night, while sitting at the barstools, she puts her legs up on the other stool next to her. “My legs want to the lay down. They are really really tired.”

"It’s 30 o’clock!"

Calling a sleepover a nightover.

Calling Ritz crackers baby crackers

"Who" is "Whobody"

In response to many questions: “Um, no way!”

Calling a waterfall a water mountain.

“Mommy when somebody is doing something I don’t want to do I say 'not agaaaaaaain!'"

The names you make for your toys and things we see. (Your favorite bunny, Pillow, your pull-along puppy toy, Harlow, and the frog who lives near our front porch, Tickedy Tock...).

"That’s not Pah heh bull [possible]!"

"Uh oh, paghetti o!"

While bringing me a pan from your play kitchen: "Mommy I made you a Peter Pancake!"

"Howy mowy!"

"I have boobies now! I have milk in my tummy now so I can feed my baby!"

You constantly make up stories. All day long. And they typically begin with "When I was a baby, and...". Your life story is already quite exciting, if these stories are true.

You are always correcting me with reason.

Me: “Before we head to school, I’ve got to run to the bathroom.” [exits]

Anika, from the other room: “Mommy! That is NOT running! That is walking!”

And then you proceeds to explain to me the difference.

*********

Anika, you are growing up so fast. I used to be a fervent, desperate supporter of this. I would constantly think to myself "I can't wait until Anika ____ or Anika _____." And I do still look toward the future with some longing. But for every day I anxiously await, there is another for which I'm wistful. I do wish time would linger over you for a while longer now. You are so big, I can barely sit you comfortably on my lap when we read before bed. Your legs hang out from under the blanket, your hair is in my face, I can't see the book, and neither of us is truly comfortable... but we hang on to this small, but essential piece of our day's routine. The day I can't rock you my arms will be a sad one for me. I'll do it until you tell me not to. We might need to get a bigger chair.

Each day you catapult yourself into life, on instinct, until the moment you close your eyes and finally sleep at night. This, of course, is the great beauty of childhood.

I love you.