A Pattern of Words

Unlike her sister, my little Boružėlė can play for hours by herself quite happily. You’ll look outside and see her talking to herself, making up a little dance, or perfecting her spin-flips on the climbing dome. It isn’t completely unusual for her to also find a quiet corner to fall asleep; taking short, late afternoon cat naps now that her days of regular napping are over. She turns four today and that pang of “goodbye baby days” is hitting hard. She loves to collapse on the floor at bedtime, insisting that I “carry her” up to the top bunk. Her favorite jammies are either the cozy unicorn onesie passed down from cousins or the fancy Elsa ones paired with any ridiculous pair of bottoms. I anticipate constant PJ attire to be swapped out for constant bathing suit attire any day now. (our pool doesn’t open for two more months, but she’s already asking about it daily) Out of nowhere, she has decided she is ready to bike again and now practices diligently with her (previously despised) balance bike so that she could conquer N’s pedal bike. She’s stubborn, has a quick temper I’m forever trying to teach her to control, an expansive range of ridiculous facial expressions she deploys effortlessly, and a strong sense of self that makes me envious at times.