Saturday, January 28, 2012

Delaney at 4 1/2

I don't know why it's harder to keep up with the girls' quarterly posts than it is with Timmy's monthly ones.  They are every bit as interesting as Timmy is, in their own ways.
Delaney has grown up so much this year, and she almost seems like a big kid to me, even though she's four, and a pint-size four at that.  She's funny, observant, and helpful in a lot of ways.  She can sometimes be a whiny four-year-old too, but she doesn't use that tone too much with me because she knows I can't stand it and it doesn't get her anywhere anyway.

I wish I wrote down every funny little observation she makes, because all her little comments make me smile.  Just tonight at bedtime, I was reading her and Annie the story of Jesus' parents losing him at the temple in Jerusalem.  At the end of the story, I said, "And Jesus was obedient to his parents from then on.  He didn't run away from them ever again."  Delaney said with a little grin, "I run away from you sometimes when you're fixing my hair."

She is my little helper.  Today at the commissary, she walked along with me, and helped grab things off the shelves and put them in the cart.  While we were in line, she helped by getting the items out from underneath the cart, which I really do appreciate since I have a baby in a carrier.  She is eager and happy to help.  All I have to do is ask.  As I already mentioned, she plays with Timmy, allowing me more time to sit on my duff and check Facebook.  She is proud of her role of helping with Timmy, asking me if she can "babysit" him.  While Annie's down for her nap, I let Delaney "babysit" him as he plays on the floor, with only loose supervision.  I am proud of her for growing into such a great big sister.
She is sentimental and likes to save things.  In fact, she might one day turn out to be a hoarder in response to my desire to throw everything away.  I've decided that I really have to allow her to keep the things she really cares about, for whatever reason.  The time of making things disappear because she forgot about them and won't miss them has passed.  It passed a long time ago and it's time for me to face it.  So today, as a first step, I put a little Gladware container in a corner of the front porch.  It contains a couple items from nature -- a rock and a "pecan" (I have no idea what it really is, but Delaney says it's a pecan).  She wants to collect things that belong outside, so now she has a place for her collection.
One of Delaney's keepsakes: a photo of her with Dallas the dog, given to her by Tim's cousin Sindi.  It is displayed on a shelf in her and Annie's room.
I am a little ashamed to say that I have not been saving much of her artwork up to now.  Truthfully, I was overwhelmed by the volume of what was sent home with her from school from the very start, which was 2-day preschool last year.  I fast-forwarded 18 years in my mind, and I felt like I was already drowning in paper.  She also does a lot of drawing and projects here, and while I enjoy the process of making the things, and seeing her excitement, at the end of the day I'm like, 'Now what do I do with all this stuff?'
Knowing I can't possibly save it all, and with the prospect of another move always in the back of my mind (which always forces me to confront all the things I've kept and decide how important they really are), I've been in the habit of tossing almost everything.  But that ends now.  Now I've come up with a system of saving at least some of it.  What I'll do is put everything I think she did a good job on into a diaper box.  At the end of a school year, I will go through it again, narrow it down even further, and put all my favorites into a file that I will get just for that purpose.
Self-portrait of the artist as Humpty-Dumpty?
I tell this story because Delaney knows my habit of tossing things.  I try to hide it from her but she sees things peeking out from the recycle bins, and she looks in the trash can, to my annoyance.  She points it out to me and makes a stink until either she or I dig it back out.  I'm a horrible mother, I know!  But I'm turning over a new leaf.

She is getting more excited by the day about her daddy coming back home.  Every time she eats a jellybean, she says, "Another day closer.."  and "That's not a lot of jellybeans!"  I am happy for her that she gets him back, and happy for Tim that he doesn't have to be deprived of her for much longer.  I take her for granted most of the time because she's my "easy kid," but she really is terrific.

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