Letters to Isabel, Month 36

Dear Isabel,

Yesterday you turned three years old.

Three. Years. Old.

You are no longer a toddler. How the heck did that happen? It is weird that most of the time I can’t imagine you any way other than you are now.

I remember you being a baby, of course (how could I forget?) But those memories are not as vivid as they once were. Thinking of you as a baby seems…surreal maybe? It is very hard to put into words. But every now and then you will snuggle up to me and lay your head on my chest and I will get this very vivid déjà vu-ish moment where it seems like only yesterday that we slept in the rocking chair together every night because you hated your bed; that we spent most of our days pacing the living room floor or jiggling you over my knee to keep you from screaming loud enough to perforate an eardrum.

Now here you are. A preschooler. I have seen so many changes in you this month. Mostly in your ability to play with other kids your age. This is your friend Randy:

She comes over to play with you most days of the week now. You two get into all sorts of mischief together.

This was a rough transition for you at first, but after the first few weeks you really started to become more comfortable. You have made amazing strides. You still are not the most social kid on the block

But you really enjoy being with other kids now. It’s amazing to watch you grow and change.

Not that this time has been without its challenges. The addition of another kid to your space as well as the fact that your brother is becoming more mobile (read: more of a threat to your toys) has led to some lovely sibling rivalry. I will never forget the fist time I saw you sneak up behind your brother and shove him to the ground. I found myself in this odd inner mother-instinct dilemma. It is a horrible feeling to see one of your precious babies hurt another. Of course, once you realized what a spectacular reaction you could get out of me by pushing the baby, you started to do it more and more frequently. Time out was no deterrent. I spent about a week at my wit’s end.

Thank God for my wonderful Mommy friends. There is a group of us who meet once a week and they assured me that you weren’t a sociopath. In fact, most of them expressed surprise that it had taken you this long. They gave me some great advice, and a few days later we started this:

Ah, the precious marble jar. It is pretty simple. Good behavior earns a marble. Bad behavior costs a marble. After ten marbles, you earned your first prize, which was a talking Leo doll that you picked out. After 30 you will earn your next prize, which should be very soon. It has made a huge difference. You love earning prizes, but you also seem to love just earning a marble. This morning you walked up to Isaac as he sat on my lap and kissed him tenderly on the head. You looked at me and said, “I get a marble now! I’m going to get a green marble and make it go ‘chunk’ in my jar!”

Your dad and I are also working hard to make sure we give you more positive attention. All in all, things are going a lot better. We still have our rough days, but we are starting to settle into more of a routine. The weather is getting nice, and Nanny and Geeze got you guys the coolest thing for your birthdays:

You love it. I don’t know how often you are going to get to play with it. Because, honey? Your Mommy is a little neurotic when it comes to, well, dirt. And sand. And my carpet. And your hair. I basically don’t want to combine any of these things. Also your brother sees sand and thinks, “Lunch!” You guys played with your new toy for thirty minutes this morning and I think I had about three coronaries. I wish I could be more of a relaxed, lets-not-worry-about-the-mess Mommy; and I try. I really do. It is just…not in my nature.

This is one of the many reasons that I am so grateful for you, little one. Every day you take me out of my comfort zone. I am a better person for having known you these last three years. You’ve taught me how to cultivate patience when it seemed impossible to be patient, how to be at peace in the midst of chaos and how to laugh even when I am being sprinkled with bodily fluids. Happy birthday, honey.

Love,

Mama