Thursday, September 29, 2011
My little baby is 3 years old. Yesterday was her birthday and her party is this Saturday. Let me tell you a bit about this special girl.
Cutecumber is one of a kind. Before she was born, I spent a great deal of time, daydreaming about what she would be like. I already had a very girly-girl and really boyish-boy. Would she be more like the Scientist, analytical, serious, and into dirt and bugs? Would she be more like Ms. Thang, carefree, outgoing, and easy to read?
Well, she was her own little person right from the start. She came into this world with a bang, and kept a sour puss on her face for 3 straight days! As each year goes by, her personality traits start to stand out from her typical age characteristics.
Cutecumber is a nurturer. She soothes anyone and anything, from grasshopper boo-boos to teenage tears. If the scientist frowns when he realizes his turtle is no longer trapped in the "home-made habitat" in the back yard, Cutecumber kneels beside him, arm around his shoulders, and tells him it's going to be ok. If she notices a nick on my leg from shaving, or even a large freckle on the back of my arm, I am treated with a q-tip of meds (lotion) and a band-aid, with meticulous care and gentleness.
She only opens up to people she knows. Unlike her brother and sister, who try to make friends with every person in line at the grocery store, Cutecumber greets even the friendliest strangers with a low brow, and short answers. She doesn't flash her winning smile to just anyone. She saves it, like a little treasure that only her true and trusted friends can enjoy.
She does have a good dose of influence from her siblings though. She loves dinosaurs and earrings. She wears a princess dress to dig in the dirt. She'll catch a june bug and rock it to sleep. She cries when humpty dumpty falls off the wall, yet was laughing hysterically when I caught her throwing the last egg (of a full carton) onto the floor.
She has a special place in my heart, being my only planned baby. The one that opened up a new level of love for me. We were a family, so wonderful, that we purposefully expanded. She is a symbol to me, the final layer of the greatest thing I've ever created. The sealant, making everything shiny and long lasting. The cherry on top of a perfect sundae. She's my last baby, the final chapter in my book of motherhood. I'm more mature this go-round. I have more patience and knowledge, and knowing she is my last, she gets more of my undivided attention as she reaches a new milestone and I soak it all in, remembering each detail of how it feels to have a child asleep in my arms, or "5 little Monkeys jumping on the bed" on repeat in the van.
We are all so very much in love with her. She has each and every one of us by the heart string, like a handful of balloons, and we couldn't have place them in better hands. She's gentle, kindhearted, compassionate, and places each of our hearts in their own little bed at night, singing to them softly, kissing them good night one by one, and trying her best to mend any broken pieces. She's a special one, my little girl.