My daughter, just before her 4th birthday, playing the theme from the New World Symphony by Dvorak:
Archive for 3-4 Years
My three and a half year old daughter came up with this song while matching socks and rolling them up:
(sung to the tune of Frere Jacques)
Folding Laundry, folding laundry
Does this match? does this match?
Yes, I think it does match.
Well, then roll it up please!
Fold, fold, fold.
Fold, fold, fold.
Then she decided to beat-up on her baby brother. Walked up right behind the kid and shoved him down. Hard. Completely unprovoked.
So, I put the horse away. (Really, I’ve just run out of ideas here, people.)
She asked me where he had gone and I told her I put it away, she’d get it back when she plays nicely, etc.
But she persisted with the continuous stream of questions:
Where is the horse? How long does she have to be good to get it back? Will I donate it? If the other little girl pushes her little brother, will she donate it back?
Finally, I told her the horse went away because he only likes to play with kids who are nice to their little brothers and that he would come back when she treated her brother nicely.
“But mommy, how can he do that? He’s just a pretend horse….”
Photo Credit: Horse
My son has decided that I need more sleep. And he is enforcing this by waking up regularly and demanding that I join him. As soon as I cuddle him, he falls fast asleep. The moment I attempt to put him down, he cries. If I finally get him to bed, he is back up within the hour.
I try to imagine it from his perspective–he spends an hour trying to get mommy to sleep: reading books with me, cuddling, nursing, singing. And then finally, just when he thinks he has me down for the night, he wakes to discover I am not there. Sneaky mommy. Just what does it take to get mommy to get her much needed sleep?
And then there is my darling daughter. Lately she has taken to asking me how much I love her. Being a bit of a sap, I told her:
I love you more than there are stars in the sky.
Tell me more, mommy.
Well, sweetie, I love you more than there are pebbles on every beach. More than there are grains of sand in all the deserts in the world…more than…
Do you love me more than this light?
Huh? Ummm…well, yes, sweetie. I do love you more than this light.
I love you more than the hamper, mommy.
Well. Ummm. That’s good to hear, little one.
More than the hot pink hamper, mommy.
Thank you, sweetie.