The moments I'm trying to remember in these days :: Johannah offers to change out of her pajama pants each morning after a bit of prompting, but begs to stay in her pajama shirt to stay warm, even if it's sleeveless. She eats a bagel with cream cheese, not toasted, closed every morning. Without fail, she'll say "play with trains" when I ask her what she wants to do for the day. She'll always request a big of tv in the morning and I'll often let her catch the last fifteen minutes of Sesame Street when Elmo is on. She exerts her preferences, her leadership which manifests in bossiness "you need to clean up this mess," she'll tell me. I take a lot of deep breaths and remember that she's three years old. It's a struggle to get her outside, but when I do, she'll want to stay out for hours. Some days. Other times she'll refuse to go on a walk and sit outside the back door until I head for the front gate. When she hears the gate clank, she'll make her way over to me, but complain through the whole walk. She always tells me that her body doesn't need a rest today, but most days it does. Other days, she'll climb out of bed, turn on the light, and play with all her toys. It'll be a struggle to get her in the bath in the afternoon, but she loves playing with all her toys and though it takes some coaxing to wash her hair, eventually she'll let me and enjoys having her blonde curls blow-dried.
Last week, she made a tent out of the dining room table and told me to climb inside because it was nap time. She gave me a pillow to lie on and covered me up with her blanket. She leaned in, kissed my nose, and declared, "I love you, Kelli."