What a year number 4 was T. I don’t think I will ever be able to look back at your 4th year on earth and not have my heart well with pride and admiration and my eyes well with tears. I think we will find in the next decade that as young and small and tiny you were at age 4, it was a pivotal and defining year for you. Both in learning what you’re innately made of, and what you are capable of overcoming and pushing yourself through.
Your year started in Salt Lake, it moved you to Dubai, to Saudi Arabia, to the United States and back to Dubai. Transition after transition was not easy for you. You struggled more months than you did not. Your inner conflict was pronounced in several different ways; tears, tantrums, anxiety, attachment, concerning behavior. As your parents it was heart wrenching to watch. We felt largely responsible for your strife and we worried and researched and prayed to know how to help you. It would be nice to say we finally figured it out, that we found the golden ticket. But aside from perhaps our prayers and best intentions, it was you. It was your tiny, mighty self that slowly gained the quiet confidence, self assurance and fortitude to come out on top. You have carried a determination and tenacity with you since you were born really. Whether it was in your negotiating skills as a three year old, your tantrums as a two year old, your refusal to be persuaded to crawl as a one year old, it was discernible. We wondered often how it would present itself as you got older. And when I say, ‘got older’, I assumed we’d find out when you were 14, 16, 18 years old. We found out at 4. When channeled in the right direction, that determination, tenacity, that quiet confidence turns you into a force to be reckoned with. You get incredibly impressive, incredibly fast.
While you are a fierce little lady, you are in most ways, just a little girl. A little girl that I adore. You still relish in all things fancy. You love to put on make up in the morning with mom. You have more lip glosses than the Queen of England. You fill your purses with all sorts of treasures and carry them around with you for about 20 minutes before you ask dad or I to hold it. You love fancy dresses and have a special affection for high heels. You’d wear them everyday if I let you. Sometimes I oblige, most days I’m a buzz kill. Just last week, you took all your necklaces, bracelets, lip glosses, brushes, all your ‘fancy things’ as you call them and placed them strategically all around your hotel room here at the Gloria. Some went on the bed frame, others on the mirror. There are necklaces hanging from lamps, bracelets from door knobs. I knew the moment your brother entered the room (that he shares with you), it was going to get ugly fast, but you were too tickled with yourself and all your great placement ideas to be dissuaded, so I let you carry on. And then I went ahead and let you reprimand and whomp your brother when he knocked your comb behind the bed frame.
You love your brother, and while you still give him a hard time now and then, you seem to have finally embraced the fact that he’s not going anywhere and as a result, you might as well be his friend. You tease him and he tests your patience, but in large part, the two of you are the best of buddies, you are a great big sister. You love to help him build forts, you are good to share your books and art supplies with him. You two recently found you love to wrestle each other (I hate this game) and mostly you like to egg him on when he’s driving me crazy. You are sweet to him when he is sad, are quick to give him a love and you are great at helping him discover new things, or assisting him do things he can not do on his own. Last week on our drive to the first day of school, I sat in the front seat and smiled as I listened to you explain to Bode how much fun he was going to have at school and let him know what to expect. “You’ll love it buddy! You'll make new friends, you get to eat snacks and play outside!” And then you told me not to worry, that you’d pick up Bode after school and help him until I got there. You watch out for him and defend him. He still worships the ground you walk on, wants to do everything Tessa does, he’s lucky to have you.
You still love to dance and have expressed a keen interest in gymnastics the past several months (which we just registered you for). I’m convinced it has as much to do with the sparkly leotard as the balance beam, but that is neither here nor there. At home in Saudi, you would practice your gymnastics and make up routines for us frequently. Your beam? Dad’s resistance bands. Your parallel bars? Two arm chairs side by side. And your mats? Either the couch cushions or mom’s yoga mat. Your form and pointed toes are really quite impressive. You have not however, mastered the cartwheel. Though you’re convinced that you have. You love music and pick up songs quickly. You were the star of every concert at My Little School last year and you love to get mom’s phone and play music. You have a few Taylor Swift songs memorized and I adore listening to you belt it out in the back seat. You are a great little artist and love to paint, color, paste and cut. If you can get your hands on some glitter or stamps, that makes you especially happy. It is in large part how you express your love for mom and dad. We get your artwork frequently and display it around the house. You especially love to draw flowers, houses, butterflys and our family. Every piece is tagged with your signature and often times, Mom, Dad and Bode are written too.
You continue to excel academically. You are sharp and pick things up quickly, particularly those things that interest you. Dad and I were tickled to pieces this last year watching you learn Arabic. You seemed to really have a knack for it, enjoy it and are proud when you can share new words and songs. You took French as well in Saudi and while you did well, seemed to have more of an affection for Arabic. Both your language teachers delighted in you and raved to me frequently about your progress. We are making an effort to read for a few minutes every night and when your aren’t guessing the words based on the picture (drives me bonkers), you do well. When you apply yourself and really try to sound out the words, you read. It’s awesome. You aren’t as taken with math and numbers, that could very well come from me…sorry kid.
You remain a teensy little bug. Still the most petite among all your peers. It doesn’t seem to slow you down, I don’t know that you even notice. You’re a featherweight and I think you’re brother has just about caught you in kilos. I don’t doubt height will come at some point too.
You are beginning to recognize Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and their role in your life. You came home from school one day announcing that all our food comes from Allah…since we’ve had several conversations this past year about Allah and Heavenly Father. What Muslims believe and what we believe. You are inquisitive and seem to have a real desire to know and to choose the right. I pray you will continue to have that righteous desire and that you will be vigilant in your pursuit of the truth.
You are sassy, smart and silly. You have more courage in your tiny body than most grown adults have in their thumb. You love to buy gum at the store and think a surprise every time we go shopping is a perfectly reasonable request. You love to watch those stupid Barbie movies on the iPad and love to play games with mom and dad. Candyland is a favorite, and you are most definitely not a gracious winner. You are precocious and inquisitive. You love to tease and be teased. You remain our favorite girl in the world. I am proud beyond measure of the little person you are turning into and I continue to feel extraordinarily blessed to be your mom. What a little gift you are. Everyday. Happy 5th Birthday Sugarbutt.
Love, Mom
No comments:
Post a Comment