Imagination

Watching Bee's imagination unfold was one of the biggest gifts I received this past holiday season. Her games have become more and more elaborate. Her sense of timing and humor has developed.  Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that he is only two years old, not a miniature person with whom I can reason:

One of her favorite games, at present, is setting up a church in her play area. She lines up all her stuffed animals on chairs, admonishes them to be quiet, and says a few prayers.  I almost cried the first time I realized what she was doing.  It makes the stress of going to Romanian mass with the shushing grannies worthwhile.

She also loves to iron, a trait not inherited from either of her parents.  If only she were old enough the wield the real thing, David would always have a fresh shirt.

Auto repair comes naturally.

One of the saddest, and at the same time more joyful, parts of this year has been watching Bee's babyhood and toddlerhood come to an end.  My little squidgy baby, who for the first year of life was permanently attached to either David or I, can now initiate negotiations about why she ought to have a second glass of juice or a cookie after dinner.  

Bee's transformation into a sparkling, wonderful preschooler makes me indescribably proud, yet at the same time, a bit sad.  The thread connecting Bee and I grows longer as she grows into her own self.  Hopefully, it grows stronger with the passing years as well.