Memo to Emmy: 45 Months

Emmy Emmy,

I love that you call me Mom Mom. It's like your version of redneckonize without the Mountain Dew.

You are officially the queen of "Watch me." As in, "Watch me draw this funny face Mommy!" "Watch me ride my bike, Mommy!" "Watch me button my doll pajamas, Mommy!" It's always so urgent and so watchmerightnowthisisgoingtoblowyourmind. 

And repetition is your middle name. The addiction to fuzz covered animals has reached a fever pitch. It's like
panda-monium all day every day. Please let Odessa grow fast enough to play with you before she ingests all of the microscopic accessories. 

"Do you want to play Calico Critters?" "I just want to play Calico Critters. I love them so much."
"I know, I'll be the girls and you be the boys." Each of those sentences is uttered in our house AT LEAST 3 times daily. You used to make me or Daddy do the boy voices Every Single Time, but now you're generously taking turns. Your boy voice is the best. It involves a pouty mouth and your voice goes one octave lower. #mustrecordit

Santa gave you a bike for Christmas. You are rocking and rolling like a champ. We're still working on braking but it's nice to get you out and about on four wheels. Anything to get away from the Panda Family.


You are a great confider. We never know when you will reveal a musing, but it's always good when you do. Like the time you revealed what you secretly wish for, "I always wish for a zebra and a giraffe, but it never comes true, Daddy." Then you sighed and said you'd keep wishing.
 
When I hugged you so tight and started lamenting about how I can't believe it's already time to register you for pre-kindergarten (!!!!!!!) and no Emmy, don't grow up so fast, you started to tear up. My sensitive little bear, you pick up on all our emotions and still have never said a bad word, despite the many bad examples you've heard. I told Daddy to stop calling me at work from the car Bluetooth without warning me first. I mean, I'm at work. Newsroom = trucker mouth central.

 
Except for the one time Daddy came in from the garage and heard you yelling, "Shut up Romeo. ROMEO, SHUT UP!" because he was barking after we got home from the store. Daddy had to let you know you can just leave the dog discipline to the grown ups. Grown ups who are now watching their word choice.

 
We had a talk, you and me, about when you grow up and how you may find a husband like Daddy is my husband. It was fine until 3 seconds later when you processed it. Then you got all teary and said, "But I love Daddy." It was heart crumbling. You and me both, sister. 

 
You suffered your first bout of a minor stomach bug this past month. I stayed home to watch you. It happened to be the same day as a terrible school shooting in Connecticut. I was never more grateful to be home with a sick toddler. 

You were such a trooper and you were so snuggly and sweet, even while barfing. I've never seen you that motionless and tired. Man did you love sleeping with someone right next to you. The dogs loved it too. I kind of loved it too. Sick Emmy is the huggiest.

In happier news, I can report you now love me a 20. My elation quashed when you followed up with, "And I love Daddy 30!"

 
Ah well. Win some, lose some.
Love you Emsters,
Mama
Vicky NguyenBloggity, Emmy Memo