First one letter, then the next ..and the next

GIRL started writing her name a couple of months ago. It is a bit early. Yes. She'll be 4 in September. She just did it one day. On her own. First one letter, then the next... and the next. Until the wavy letters stood there, tall on the page of blue color, written with green crayon. Since then she practices, over and over again. It is something she loves to do. Writing her name. Yesterday I found a piece of paper on which she had written her name 15 times on the page. Now when she comes home with art work from school, she has written her name on the piece herself. Sometimes it is in the upper corner, sometimes the lower, and sometimes smack dab in the middle of the page.

GIRL has been anxious lately. Her daycare, where she goes part-time, has water play for the months of July and August. There are spray bottles, a water hose, and plenty of mud. In fact, there is often a mud trench dug through the school yard. What is akin to nirvana -playing with water and BOY at home is not the same at school. The outcome of a school day full of water...an unknown. Unknowns are bad words in the LEXICON OF GIRL.

A couple of weeks ago she started talking about not wanting to go to school. This was new. I managed to finally figure it out. GIRL thought that she had to do the water play. That it was mandatory, and not a choice. We've worked it out now. She has a bathing suit in her backpack, in case she changes her mind. Meanwhile, she goes to school in play clothes and tries to discover other things to do. The painting easel, her favorite, is retired for the summer. In place of the easel there are options to paint on other surfaces - like the concrete walkway. She is OK with this, but is truly happy putting paint on paper and I always know when she's had a great day by the amount of paint splatters draped across her clothes.

GIRL has giant, soulful eyes. And a feisty spirit. She is stubborn, yet determined. Her natural inclination to practice, practice, practice and not give up will serve her well in life. She veers from articulate, logical and verbose to mercurial, explosive and speechless within seconds. Sometimes I see it coming. Sometimes not. She is challenging and lovely. She is a quick study and can repeat things verbatim hours later - causing the hair to stand up on the back of my neck. Someday she will be a voracious reader. She has memorized books since she was two. And then she "reads" them aloud. Sometimes to herself. Sometimes to her dolls. For the last week she has been saying that when she grows up she wants to be a doctor. I have no doubt she could be.

When GIRL is rested and not rushed, there is no one better to keep company with. Her small hand easily fitting into mine, the curve of her smile at the ready. She is cautious and not easily trusting. She has boundaries, naturally, of her own making. You must win her over, but when you do...she is yours. And loyal.

Often her voice is shrill. Kind of like...yes, a fish wife. Issuing orders to BOY and other lucky ones in her path. She would do well in the army. Perhaps at taking troops into battle.

She likes to bring me strawberry tea and assorted fruits and veggies crafted in plastic from her toy kitchen. She brings them to me when I am writing, somehow sensing that tea and fresh produce are a welcome respite from the litanies of my inner critic trying to find the right words.

She adores BOY. And he adores her. Although lately, their bickering has been sending me over the edge...and beyond.

I cherish her. I can't imagine what our lives would have been like without her.

BOY: GIRL, I am NOT your friend. Any. More.

GIRL: BOY, I AM your friend and I will love you forever.

And she will... I just know it.


***The Sculpture Gallery: Photo of Sculpture titled: At play

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