2 and 42

Today is Josephine's 3 1/2 birthday!  (Coincidentally, it is also the 3 1/2 birthdays of all her baby dolls.) She's very excited.  As she said, she's "been waiting and waiting a LONG time for today."

I went out and picked up some balloons for her.  (Apparently there is a helium shortage?  The Greek storeowner told me, "it is because of the war."  Some quick googling doesn't really support that explanation; I think the lady just wanted to tell me a story about how her mother donated her supply of stockings during WWII because the government needed nylon for parachutes.  I also am not sure there is as MUCH of a shortage as the price she charged me would indicate.  $7 for 5 latex balloons?  Hmmm.)

Also got a tiny little cake from an Italian bakery.  I put 4 candles in it after clipping one in half.   And I used her half birthday as an excuse to buy her a little number toy that I saw a couple weeks ago.  It makes THE MOST satisfying little popping noises with these tiny magnets that surface as you trace the numbers.  I'd have bought it for myself for my own birthday which is coming up, except I already know how to write all my numbers.   (...okay, who am I kidding... this was still a totally self-serving purchase.  I've played with it more than she has so far.)

Josephine's a truly delightful little person.  She cracks us up on a daily basis (usually we have to laugh behind her back because it would either overly encourage an antic that is only funny ONCE or it would require us to appease her demands for an explanation of why we are laughing.)  There is much laughter, though.  Including, to my delight, from her at my jokes.  I've started delivering semi-preposterous one liners in a more or less deadpan voice during conversation with her-- and I love that she picks up on them because they catch her off guard and elicit a genuine laugh (as opposed to the more silly laugh that you get during a game or play time).

Josephine is social and sweet, loving to be around other people, her initial shyness melting quickly into exuberant play.  The more engaged you are and willing to play by her spontaneous rules, the more she adores you.  Underneath her little dictatorial style, though, is a very thoughtful and sensitive awareness that frequently catches me off guard.  For instance, the other day she wouldn't let me put Five Guys down on her stomach for tummy time until she took off Five Guys' dress, because she had noticed some stitching on the front that would rub her stomach uncomfortably!   All her dolls and animals have incredibly complicated feelings and needs, and she watches other small children like a hawk while narrating to me their emotions and actions.  She points excitedly to the brown trees when we are paying the red and golden ones too much attention.  And if Clement so much as looks crossways, she's there imposing a myriad of "solutions"... which at least succeeds in distracting him from his original ailment. Yes, her innate attentiveness to others is truly a gift of hers, and one she enjoys cultivating (to the extent that she CREATES needs for inanimate objects just so she can attend to them).

Josephine is also clever-- oooh so clever-- frequently baiting conversations as she fishes for a particular conclusion.  Like yesterday, as we were leaving a rest area on our drive back from Vermont, she nonchalantly wandered from Sean's side until she ended up by a display of candy in the store... and then casually said to Sean, "Dad?  Have I've been really good today?"  He, not as suspicious of wisened to her techniques as I am, agreed without reserve while smiling encouragingly.  I saw what was happening and intervened, ushering them along before the conversation took it's inevitable turn of "Oh, well MAYBE since I've been so good I can have one of these treats that are conveniently right here???" On her face you could see that I'd thwarted her well-crafted plan.  She was not pleased.

And the other day she was looking for some of her sponge animals (the kind that expand from a tiny pill size capsule in the bathtub).  I had just pitched a few of them because they'd gotten torn, so I told her she'd have to wait to get more until the next time she took a bath.  She went off and played for about 30 minutes and then came back to find me and very randomly said, "I think I got a little sweaty when I was doing blanket time this morning."  Yep-- took me a second-- but then I remembered the sponge animal conversation and realized where this seemingly innocuous, bizarre comment was headed.  I couldn't help but burst out laughing, which surprised her, but then she seemed even more surprised when I said, "you're trying to get me to give you a bath so you can have more sponge toys, aren't you?"  It's always a shock to her when I have her figured out.  Her eyes get wide while her little brain races to get one step ahead of me again.  As a rule, she doesn't think I have any sort of leg up on her whatsoever.  She finds the fact that I'm the parent frustrating, bewildering, infuriating, and in defiance of all obvious logic.  

Despite all her AGE and experience and knowledge, she's still my baby, and I adore the moments when she is playing or laughing in an unreserved, unaware manner.  I wish I had a magic formula for how to turn off her self-conscious, grown up tendencies and keep her small.  She's mastering the world at an alarming rate, though, so sometimes I have to rely on midnight sleepwalks to the potty to catch her in a raw, off guard state.   The next best thing is watching her run around in a park with Sean.  Something about his large, I'm-not-going-to-let-you-win presence keeps her feeling little, and it's pretty hilarious watching her try to keep up with him.  She is also still little when something is new: whether it is a joyful situation where her delight is genuine and wonder fills her eyes, or an overwhelming situation where intimidation has her clinging.  All these moments are dear to me because I feel hyperaware that they are fleeting.

Josephine is a passionate, strong-willed, emotional child-- incredibly loving and doting and enjoying nothing more than being loved and doted upon.  She is curious, observant, questioning, and she explains the world with the authority of a queen, regardless of how much she understands. ("You know those little candles that you put in your mouth and smoke comes out?  Five Guys does that sometimes.")  

And, true to form, upon serving the little cake I got for her half birthday, she spent some time being small and delighting in the candles and sugar and wonder of it all... then slowly, as the newness wore off, her clever little edge returned and she said, after a particularly chocolaty bite, "You know I'll be three and a half tomorrow, too..." 

It's a tenacious little pinky finger we're wrapped around. 

As Josephine is relishing her celebration of being 42 months, Mr. Clement, meanwhile, is a proud TWO MONTHS old as of last Sunday.  He might not do much, but he does enough to merit his own post next.