Cally likes to talk. When she wakes up in the morning, we hear her little voice coming out of her bedroom saying, "I'm done sleeping" and that is where the dialogue about her day begins. She talks about needing to go downstairs to feed Zephy and Lobby, wanting eggs for breakfast, and is even learning to say her pleases and thank you's. Like most parents walking through these transitions, it is liberating to actually know what your child wants and does not want. Most recently, Cally has become acutely aware of her feelings. For the past few months, she's been asking us if we are happy or sad, if the animals are happy or sad, and making her own declarations about who is happy or sad. However, she has rarely used "I" statements, until just this past week. While on a walk with the family, Cally was in the backpack and saw that John and I were holding hands. She then declared, "Mommy, hold my hand". So I held both her hand and John's while we walked with the sun shinning on us, Mt. Mansfield in the background, Zephy running through the tall grass around us, and a general sense of bliss coursing through our veins. Just then, as if reading our minds, Cally proclaimed, "Mamma, I'm happy". John and I nearly cried. It was so disarming to actually know that our little daughter was feeling exactly the same way we were AND she was able to articulate those feelings.
Oh to be a toddler again, where stresses like losing the edits that a newly appointed committee member on your dissertation committee took the time to send you or hearing from a parent that their freshman learned everything that you've taken the time to teach their daughter in middle school already, aren't even a part of your reality. Where being sad, because your best buddy won't share is about the biggest woe you'll have all day. And where going to the Tunbridge World's Fair, sitting on a giant pumpkin or 3,000 lb ox and simply visiting the animals and taking one ride is all you need to be happy.
