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Yesterday I rolled Arwen’s window down so she could say goodbye to a little friend, and her purple balloon got sucked out the window! If you’ve ever witnessed this, it is a true heartbreak for a child. Their tears are genuine.
Trying to put a good spin on her tragedy I said, “But he’s free now! He got his freedom!”
I expected more tears, but she said, “You mean she.”
She climbed into bed with us this morning, as she does every morning, and we oohed and aahed about her being 4! But she says, “But I’m not big.” I know what she means. She’s been babied. She is the baby, and she still looks like a baby. Her face is still round; her hands are still dimpled. Arwen is a peanut. All the strangers at Trader Joe’s seem surprised when she tells them she’s turning 4, not 3.
Highlights: chocolate muffins, a tea party board game and cheeseburgers with her family. The big party with all her little girlfriends is still 10 days away.
