Letters to Maddie Bear: May, 2014

Dear Madeline,
Hooray, it's warming up at long last, and we've been able to get out more. This had made a huge difference in your attitude. We're still dealing with some sass and power struggles, but things are a lot better than they were last month. Phew!

First off, you are the funniest human being I have ever met. You say the craziest things. You are sarcastic and quick-witted, yet still completely artless. We laugh a lot in this house.

You've come out of your shell in many ways. In the past, you've been very shy. But now you're suddenly saying hi to everyone we meet. You yell out the window to the kids waiting at the bus stop in the mornings. You struck up a conversation with a lady at the deli counter yesterday. Last week you chased a random person at the mall as if he had started a game of tag with you. He didn't. All parties involved were very confused. You just laughed. I nearly died of embarrassment then tried to explain why we don't chase strangers.
You love to play. After briefly watching cartoons in the mornings, you tell me that I can put the news back on while going off to grab some toys. Every day you ask to play with the boys next door. You go, go, go from dawn to dusk.

The biggest problem we're dealing with currently is your listening skills, my dear. Hey, I know you're just a little kid, but it would be nice if I didn't have to ask you to put your shoes on five times before you actually think about doing it.

But you're so dreamy...and you're so stubborn. Following directions is hard for you.
During ballet, you run around like a maniac or stare off into space, but you very rarely do what the teacher wants you to do. I'd worry about this less if all the kids in ballet were like this, but they're not. Still, you claim you love it and look forward to it every week.
This week I think you did a much better job listening, but you were the last kid to be rewarded a sticker at the end of class. You weren't in the position the teacher was asking each child to perform in order to get the reward. Instead of correcting your position, you just kept repeatedly asking for a sticker over the teacher's voice. It's like she wasn't talking at all. (I feel her pain.) You didn't seem to mind that you were the last, but it made me so sad to watch you standing there just not getting what the problem was.
I don't care if you ever learn ballet, Maddie Bear. But I worry about you cause that's what mothers do.
I'm curious to hear what your preschool teacher has to say (other than you're awesome cause we already know that) at conferences later this week.

Out of all the three-year-olds in the whole world, I would choose you, Madeline. II think you're the bee's knees.
Love, Mumma