I used to think Claire was my most empathetic child, but as time goes on, Mae seems to be teaching me a thing or two about pure sweetness.
Every morning when Mae wakes up, she goes into the bathroom, turns on the light, finds a cat, lures the cat into the bathroom while making clicking sounds with her mouth and saying, “KIIIIITTTTTYYYYYY!” then proceeds to close herself in the bathroom.
While in there, she does one of three things. She rearranges the towels on the hooks, sings to the cat or cleans.
When Mae cleans, she uses hand soap and a wash cloth and proceeds to soap everything up. But then she rubs her eyes, gets the soap in them and proceeds to cry and scream her eyes are burning.
She’s always singing something. It’s not usually a discernible song, rather a high pitched, “I am dancing…and I’m jumping over the dog…and I jumped again…and now I’m going to the poooooottttyyyyyy.”
On Thursdays, she’s by far on her best behavior. She knows, as she tells me multiple times a day, that she has dance class on Thursdays. “Mama. I have dance class on Thursday. Don’t forget.”
I keep all of her dance clothes in a purple bag and she knows this, so the bag gets dragged out to the bathroom, with the cat, every Thursday morning where she dresses herself for class. Never mind the class doesn’t start until 11, at 6:30, she’s ready.
She doesn’t have time to snuggle. Hugs are a minimum and she’s always on the go. She and Luca have a continual game of either baby dolls or dinosaurs, but the idea is the same, in that there’s always a mama and a daddy and babies. Sometimes there’s two mommies and they fight. When there’s two daddies, one gets eaten. It’s very graphic. But at the end, she scoops up some poor Stegosaurus that didn’t see it coming and sings it to sleep.
Mae has two kinds of dresses. She has fancy dresses and sleep dresses and they’re not interchangeable. And don’t ask her to make an exception. When it’s nap time, she will not sleep in her fancy dress. She will, however, play in her sleep dresses because it has Hello Kitty or a princess or something on it.
Pink is her favorite color. If you ask her, she’ll say, “Pink,” in such a tone that she’s clearly upset that you even had to ask.
She likes it when I braid her hair, but she claims that it hurts so she makes me sing her “Twinkle, twinkle,” continuously until I finish. She, however, complains 98% less than Claire which is so refreshing. The way Claire complains you’d think I just set fire to her skull.
While she’s the most girly-girl of all my kids, she’s the first to touch a bug, jump in muddy puddles and and is as tough as nails. This kid has fallen from various objects onto various objects subjecting her body to cuts, bruises, and oh so much blood. The fact that she hasn’t lost a tooth yet is amazing to me.
She is fearless.
She has Matt’s nose and my eyes and when she smiles I see a face that’s so familiar.