That is how old Baby Bee turned on Wednesday. I suppose she’s not a baby anymore, but she’s my last baby so in some ways she’ll be a baby forever. Baby Bee is small and delicate. She has tiny features and a little squeaky voice. Her knees are so knobbly and cute that I could spend hours or even days rubbing them. She’s covered in bruises because she’s the sort of kid who will fall down, kiss her own boo-boo and get up and do it again. I feel like I spend all my time running around behind her going “you’re going to get hurt” and then “I told you that you would get hurt!”.
Baby Bee always seems to be okay with the price of getting hurt, mostly because she really does believe that she could fly if she tries just a little harder.
As my kids get older, the struggle of what to share about them gets more difficult. I blog for two reasons. First, I like to write and second, I’d like my kids to have a record of what we did and what I felt. No one understands better than me that words in a bubble can be harmful and I don’t want any of my children to read what I’ve written about them and our lives and have them upset or confused or hurt after I can’t explain anymore. The Internet urges you to not share or overshare your children’s lives and then the Internet points at your and casts blame on the rosy glow you paint over your family.
So, what does this have to do with Baby Bee?
Baby Bee is an amazing child. It never ceases to amaze me that mingling mine and Big Daddy’s genes could create three such different people. They’re all so different. THe Princess is tall and fair with big blue eyes and golden hair. Littlebit is lovely and dark and solid muscle. Baby Bee is willowy and dainty and her hair and eyes are like you put all of the Princess’s light and all of Littlebit’s dark into a blender and she came out. Her eyes and hair are like honey. She trips around the house like a little sprite or an imp. She’s so funny and witty.
Baby Bee’s speech delays have often left her, and us, frustrated. As she grows and experiences more complicated emotions, her inability to express herself can lead to her melting down. Baby Bee won’t tell you when she’s hungry and as her blood sugar plummets, so does her mood. It has taken us five years to discover that it Baby Bee gets tired or hungry, watch out.
Yes, we’ve been parenting for a long time, but this is the first kid we’ve had that would fight sleep so fiercely. And hunger? Who has time? I’ve heard Baby Bee’s tummy rumbling and asked if she was hungry. “No”, she chirps and goes on with what she’s doing. I hide granola bars in my bedside table.
Baby Bee is an introvert. I don’t want to say that she hates strangers, but… she kind of hates strangers. No offense, strangers of the world as Baby Bee spots you at the end of the store aisle and says “Arrraaaaaggh! Go away!” She impatient. She can’t wait two seconds for anything, but I understand that, too. I feel the way she does but at 37, I can’t pull that off anymore.
Well, I can’t pull that off in front of anyone but Big Daddy.
Parenting Baby Bee isn’t always easy, but parenting no child is ever always easy. As parents, we have to adapt to our children’s challenges and needs and that’s what we try to do with Baby Bee.
Baby Bee, this might sound negative. It isn’t. As your speech catches up and you’re able to express yourself, I want you to know that being your Mom is a joy. You’re so hilariously funny. Everyone thinks so. You never disappoint us when we ask you for an answer to a silly question. You do seven amazing things before lunch and another seven before bed. “I just love cats!” “Hang me by my legs!” Nothing is too high or fast, but it can be too dark (Sorry about the Haunted Mansion…) You involve us in your pretend games and they are so fantastic. How lucky you are to imagine so much.
I do admit, I worry about you. I can’t help it. You’re slow to warm up and I wonder how transitions will work for you as time goes by. You also really don’t care about doing things for other people and I worry about being able to motivate you enough to get you to want to do well on your own. I don’t think you’ll care if I wish you’d have gotten an A, but I don’t think people will talk you into things either, which is a plus.
But, I do think you might be the one talking others into things, which might be a minus. How will you use your power? For good?