Rachel in January
Gosh, (gosh!, you repeat) it seems like you are a whole new girl in 2012. I can hardly believe my eyes sometimes, or maybe I should say my ears. The other night as we were readying for bed you looked at the “Rachel” sign on your bedroom wall then began pointing to each letter and saying each aloud: R – A – C (you got a little stuck here, then) – H – E – L. Out of nowhere, just like you have heard us say to you so many times before, you spelled your name. I cannot get over it. Now when you sit in the car with your “Rachel” cup you busy yourself with spelling your name some more. Sitting in rush hour traffic has never been such fun.
You are loving writing these days. I have to say that makes me proud. It’s amazing to watch your precision. The way you hold your pencil and gently keep your page in place. I love when you try to write really small scribbles, like the size of 10pt font, or my own note-taking. I wonder what you’re thinking of as you write. I can tell there’s just so much going on up there. I wonder what you’re thinking all the time actually, and I’m trying to remind myself to ask you. You just might tell me.
You are growing more competent and confident all the time. You are learning to pour your own water into a cup. You can throw a ball with great accuracy. You run and dance with the best of them. You sit yourself down in your big girl chair, and you end each day in your big girl bed. You are getting so so big (figuratively and literally – you are over three feet tall! I know I won’t want to forget that stat).
You melt my heart when you ask for a “(h)ug,” or when daddy or I have to leave and you protest, “no! (h)ome!” You are the sweetest pie of all the pies, I tell you. I love you so much, baby pie.