Dear Punky,
I can hardly believe that title. Four. It's amazing how quickly time passes.
As I sit here in complete silence, my mind can't help but drift back to your birth and the nineteen long hours of labor leading up to it. I suppose it's normal to remember those excruciating moments every year on your birthday. I guess it's what most moms do, no?
Even though I saved my very last vacation day of the year to have today off for your birthday, you went to school. You wanted to go. You wanted to bring cupcakes in for the class, and hear them sing to you, and pick a special surprise out of the birthday chest like the other kids all got to do on their birthdays. That's okay though, I understand. Plus, your Dad and I had big plans for the day anyway.
After we left you at school, we headed to the toy store to get you the perfect birthday present. But things began to fall apart before we even arrived, thanks to the ultra-convenient cell phone world we live in now, and quickly spiraled downhill from there.
Your godfather was at the emergency room last night - he has bronchitis. Your Pappy is at the hospital right now - he's very sick, too. Your godmother is sick. Your cousins are sick. There's a big winter storm set to hit tonight. And the toy store didn't have the present we wanted in stock.
We had to cancel your birthday party for tomorrow.
I'm so sorry, Punky. I have to break the news to you after school and I'm dreading it. You will be so disappointed and heartbroken. Believe me, I am, too.
But I promise, as soon as the weather breaks and everyone is feeling better, you will have the best birthday party we can manage. And your Dad is en route right now to another toy store an hour and a half away to get you the present we planned on buying this morning. By the time you get home from school, he'll be back.
While I have a rare window of quiet time alone, it's the perfect opportunity to write this birthday post. Three was certainly a challenging age, for both of us, and I'm excited to see what four has in store for this year.
I know I tell you this all the time, but I really am so proud of who you are. You amaze me each and every day. We are so very different, yet exactly alike in many ways. I love watching you grow, and change, and laugh, and learn. Through my eyes, this is who you are at four:
Adventurous, spontaneous, and downright daring at times. You make my heart stop with your tendency to leap before looking, but there's never a dull moment around here. You'll try anything once without hesitation, and twice if the first attempt is even remotely successful. Even at this early age it's clear you'll never be a wallflower. I admire your bravery, your spunk, and your persistence.
Intelligent, witty, and curious beyond belief. You have yet to meet a fact you didn't memorize. A far stretch from the typical kid your age, at your request we end each night with a series of questions before bed. Addition, subtraction, spelling, and science are your favorite categories these days. You told me you want to know everything, and that you will when you're one hundred years old. There's no doubt in my mind you'll get there. I hope you always approach learning with the same hunger you have now. You might just change the world some day.
Silly, funny, and a total giggle machine. You love to laugh, and you love to make others laugh even more. Our house is filled with the sweet sound of little girl giggles and the hiccups that follow shortly afterward. I love how one tiny chuckle can totally change my mood and brighten my day instantly. I love your silly, playful side. I love that you can never brush your teeth without racing us to the bathroom. I love that your socks never match your outfit when I let you choose the pair you want. I love your silly faces, wacky dances, and funny stories. Keep on laughing and inspiring others to laugh with you. It sparks friendships, deepens bonds, and creates memories that last a lifetime.
Stubborn, independent, and impatient. All typical for your age, but frustrating for your parents nonetheless. Nothing makes you more angry than something you can't master in the first three seconds of trying. Your independent streak runs deep, and your insistence on doing everything yourself makes us all crazy at times. You want what you want when you want it, and have no patience when things don't go exactly how you envisioned it. Unfortunately these traits likely stem from my half of your DNA profile, but hopefully you'll grow out of it. At least some of it. Maybe.
Your favorite things haven't changed much over the years. You still love your blankie and sleep with it faithfully. You still love macaroni and cheese, apples, pickles, and watermelon, but have recently discovered your love of chocolate (yes, my DNA as well). Hershey kisses top your list of sweet treats these days, followed closely by candy canes and sweet tarts. You have finally taken an interest in baby dolls and play with them more than your musical instruments lately. I'm not sure what to make of this new trend, but the house is a hell of a lot quieter, that's for sure.
And, of course, at four you are still my favorite little girl on the planet. Being your mom is the toughest job I've ever had, yet the most satisfying bar none. There's no doubt we'll hit some potholes as we continue our journey down this road together, but I look forward to the bumps just as much as the moments of smooth sailing. We will continue to learn and grow together. Just take it easy on us - your parents aren't exactly spring chickens, you know.
I love you, Julia Allyn.
Happy fourth birthday!
Friday, December 28, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Wants, Needs, and Spoiled Brats
Punky is a good kid. Mostly. I mean, she's three and often very good at it. She has the occasional tantrum, some typical acts of defiance, the expected exertion of her independence here and there. But on the whole, she is a sweet, loving, polite, respectful little girl.
Until recently.
Lately she been falling more in the demanding, ungrateful, unappreciative, spoiled brat category. Just in time for Christmas and her birthday. And I don't know how to fix it without doing something drastic.
I've always tried to explain to Punky that she is a very lucky girl. Granted we really don't have much and basically live paycheck to paycheck, but it's still a hell of a lot more than many people have these days. She has food in her belly, clothes on her back, a cozy home, more than enough toys for one child, and we go places and do things regularly. Even though she's very young, I've tried to explain the concept of money and how sometimes it's necessary to make decisions about how you spend it based on what's needed and what we can do without. She made her first purchase with her very own money a few weeks ago, a new baby doll, and so far she treats the doll like gold.
We talk often about kids less fortunate than her. We talk about how great it was that she participated in a trike-athon at school and raised over a hundred dollars for the sick kids at St. Jude's. We talk about the importance of sharing with those in need, and she never passes up the opportunity to toss some spare change into a charity collection bucket, whenever I have some in my pocket that is.
When she asks for something at the store, the answer is often no. But sometimes it's yes, like when she's been exceptionally good, when I have the extra cash, when she asks for something educational like a book. Up until recently, the answer didn't matter. Either way, she was okay with it. No arguing, no tantrums, no snotty attitude. Lately we haven't been so lucky.
When someone gave her something, be it a toy, or clothes, or a book from a yard sale, she would be thrilled and appreciative and always said thank-you without having to be told. She didn't expect people to give her things, so her surprise always added to the excitement. The last time she saw her godfather, she asked him right out if he had anything for her, like he always does, before he even had a chance to take off his coat. And I almost went through the roof.
She just started watching TV with commercials in the last few months, and now she wants everything she sees. The ads opened a whole new world of want for her, and I don't like it one bit. I mean, I know she's three and all, and it's not really the fact that she wants things, it's more the attitude that accompanies that want. It's like she feels the world somehow owes her these things, and denying her them, no matter the reason, sets off a pissing, moaning, whining, groaning, stomping, yelling tantrum.
I'm really at a loss here. I don't know how to handle it. I'm always as honest as I can be without burdening her with issues beyond her years. I don't want her to act like a spoiled rotten little brat, but I don't know what else I can possibly say at this point. If she were older, I'd drag her to a soup kitchen to help out for a day but three's a bit too young for that. I'm at my wits end, seriously.
I suppose there's a chance she's acting totally normal for her age, and it's just a phase like the hundreds of others she's endured thus far, and it's simply something she needs to go through and grow out of over time, but I can't help my impatience. I guess all I can do is keep reinforcing the lessons I've been trying to teach her since birth.
She knows Christmas and her birthday are right around the corner. And I know, as I have every year, about the wall of stuff about to hit our house and a part of me is dreading it. I obviously want her to be happy, and I love seeing her little face light up when she gets something she's really wanted, but this time of the year is overkill on presents. I'm not exactly sure how I'll respond if she reacts poorly to any gift she's given, or if she carries on because she didn't get something she wants, or if she doesn't like something and has the audacity to say so. Mommy's likely to lose her shit.
This parenting stuff is hard sometimes. It's a never-ending chain of crises and dilemmas, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Seems like every time I think I have it all figured out, a new problem comes out of nowhere and punches me in the gut. This one in particular really has my panties in a bunch, and even more so now since we found out today that her dad is laid off from work, effective immediately. He thought he would be safe until after the holidays but we weren't that lucky, as usual. Things are going to get ugly quick come January, so I suppose I should just let Punky enjoy all the spoiling she gets in the next few weeks. We have some extremely rough months ahead of us.
Until recently.
Lately she been falling more in the demanding, ungrateful, unappreciative, spoiled brat category. Just in time for Christmas and her birthday. And I don't know how to fix it without doing something drastic.
I've always tried to explain to Punky that she is a very lucky girl. Granted we really don't have much and basically live paycheck to paycheck, but it's still a hell of a lot more than many people have these days. She has food in her belly, clothes on her back, a cozy home, more than enough toys for one child, and we go places and do things regularly. Even though she's very young, I've tried to explain the concept of money and how sometimes it's necessary to make decisions about how you spend it based on what's needed and what we can do without. She made her first purchase with her very own money a few weeks ago, a new baby doll, and so far she treats the doll like gold.
We talk often about kids less fortunate than her. We talk about how great it was that she participated in a trike-athon at school and raised over a hundred dollars for the sick kids at St. Jude's. We talk about the importance of sharing with those in need, and she never passes up the opportunity to toss some spare change into a charity collection bucket, whenever I have some in my pocket that is.
When she asks for something at the store, the answer is often no. But sometimes it's yes, like when she's been exceptionally good, when I have the extra cash, when she asks for something educational like a book. Up until recently, the answer didn't matter. Either way, she was okay with it. No arguing, no tantrums, no snotty attitude. Lately we haven't been so lucky.
When someone gave her something, be it a toy, or clothes, or a book from a yard sale, she would be thrilled and appreciative and always said thank-you without having to be told. She didn't expect people to give her things, so her surprise always added to the excitement. The last time she saw her godfather, she asked him right out if he had anything for her, like he always does, before he even had a chance to take off his coat. And I almost went through the roof.
She just started watching TV with commercials in the last few months, and now she wants everything she sees. The ads opened a whole new world of want for her, and I don't like it one bit. I mean, I know she's three and all, and it's not really the fact that she wants things, it's more the attitude that accompanies that want. It's like she feels the world somehow owes her these things, and denying her them, no matter the reason, sets off a pissing, moaning, whining, groaning, stomping, yelling tantrum.
I'm really at a loss here. I don't know how to handle it. I'm always as honest as I can be without burdening her with issues beyond her years. I don't want her to act like a spoiled rotten little brat, but I don't know what else I can possibly say at this point. If she were older, I'd drag her to a soup kitchen to help out for a day but three's a bit too young for that. I'm at my wits end, seriously.
I suppose there's a chance she's acting totally normal for her age, and it's just a phase like the hundreds of others she's endured thus far, and it's simply something she needs to go through and grow out of over time, but I can't help my impatience. I guess all I can do is keep reinforcing the lessons I've been trying to teach her since birth.
She knows Christmas and her birthday are right around the corner. And I know, as I have every year, about the wall of stuff about to hit our house and a part of me is dreading it. I obviously want her to be happy, and I love seeing her little face light up when she gets something she's really wanted, but this time of the year is overkill on presents. I'm not exactly sure how I'll respond if she reacts poorly to any gift she's given, or if she carries on because she didn't get something she wants, or if she doesn't like something and has the audacity to say so. Mommy's likely to lose her shit.
This parenting stuff is hard sometimes. It's a never-ending chain of crises and dilemmas, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Seems like every time I think I have it all figured out, a new problem comes out of nowhere and punches me in the gut. This one in particular really has my panties in a bunch, and even more so now since we found out today that her dad is laid off from work, effective immediately. He thought he would be safe until after the holidays but we weren't that lucky, as usual. Things are going to get ugly quick come January, so I suppose I should just let Punky enjoy all the spoiling she gets in the next few weeks. We have some extremely rough months ahead of us.
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