It takes an inordinately long time to coerce Stormy out of bed. This is in complete contrast to last night. Suddenly she has decided that bed is not boring. To be fair, I discover that every morning as well. I think the only difference between being an adult and being a child is the ability to, through sheer force of will, get out of bed.
Once up, I ask her how she’d like her toast cut — triangles, squares or rectangles. Her response. “All of them”. Not one to shy away from a challenge I accept. For reference two slices of toast makes 2 triangles, 1 rectangle and 2 squares. The morning continues at a brisk pace and we make it to the bus stop in time. However, the bus decides to be 10 minutes late. This completely undermines my lesson on the importance of being timely.
She’s super affectionate when I get home. I love the way she hugs. I pick her up and she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I don’t know who gets more out of the hugs.
That’s a lie. It’s definitely me. There have been numerous occasions when I asked for a hug and she declines — reminding me that it’s her body and her choice. I am proud, but somewhat sad. I can already see the day when she wants nothing to do with her dorky dad.
Before dinner, she asks to watch some TV. I allow this, but ask her what the punishment should be if she doesn’t turn it off when dinner is ready. She sighs and says “ban TV forever”. “Not forever”, I say, “just a couple of days”. Stormy shows a uniquely 4 year old sense of time. “But a couple of days means forever!”. I laugh quietly. Regardless, she’s good and turns off the TV before coming to sit down for dinner.
Bed time comes around and Stormy want’s to do everything herself. “I’m a big girl now, I’m in Kindy” is her only response. That day is getting ever closer.
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