She’s finally 4. Since she was born, I’d been dreaming of the time when she’s reach this age. I remember how girls are at 4, and it’s always been my favorite age. Heck, I actually remember being 4. I felt like a big girl, like a conqueror. Plus, I got to pick out my own big girl panties from Kmart, and that was a BIG deal. Huge. Now, my only duchess is of the proper age to turn sass into manipulative sweetness. I feel for her father. My poor dad ended up taking tons of pictures of me during this age, mostly because I’d learn the value of a smile over a tantrum. I also had a thing for posing. Not that you would have known that from any posts on this here blog. Ahem.
She’s 4. Just 4 years ago I was screaming in agony while the nurse told me that it was too late for the good meds. I kind of cursed my kid that day, telling her that she was literally killing mommy from the inside. Ah, the things we say when blinded by pain. But on this day, her birthday, I’d forgotten about it all. I watched her all day. I anticipated how she would blow out her candles this year. Of course, without fail, she made it into an event. With her requested afro and her all pink outfit, she took on the task of making a wish.
“Ok, I’ll just blow daintily, because I’m a LADY.”
“Well, that didn’t work. There’s one left. Let’s get that sucker.”
“Wow, that was a lot of spit that came out of my mouth, but I got ’em. Wish automatically granted.”
She’s a mess, just like this homemade cake I made her. I knew a cake like this wouldn’t fly with my son. He’s very meticulous and there needs to be neatness and order. His chocolate cake was a minimalist version of culinary excellence. But, not his sister. Her cake requirements? Vanilla cake, with surprises on it. Oh, and it has to be pink inside. And from the box. FROM. THE. BOX. It’s like she knows how to press my buttons. I complied and she was ecstatic with her lopsided masterpiece. Or, at least she was wise enough to pretend to love it. I mean, she is 4 now. She knows how to work it.
Each year I make wishes for my kids on their birthdays. For my girl, I just wish that she’ll have the chance to really shine. She’s a performer by heart, and a great friend. For her 4th year, I’d love to see those traits amplified. I’ll do my best to encourage her each and every day. She’s 4 and I just love 4. 4 is a good age.