Turning Point

Today's forecast of our sunniest Sunday yet seems to usher in the news.

This summer L. will be three. That seems big to me, a turning point at which the baby is no longer the baby, and we may have reached a new stage.

When E. turned three, her little sister was already in utero doing her best Mia Hamm. (She is still doing her best Mia Hamm.)

Nearing three, she is waaay more level-headed that when she was closer-to-two. She makes for a great companion: young enough to still prefer being with mom, young enough that unexciting errands still are pleasant enough, provided she is not hungry or tired. (Not that we have had time for even this: I have literally had to put work first for 3+ weeks, and am actually looking forward to things like a movie or housework.) She is funny in the extroverted, get-you-to-laugh-out-of-the-blue way. I appreciate that.

This summer we might have a sandbox. The kids can play in the yard without intense supervision on the steps, etc. It's a new era of more independence for everyone, and new ways of relating, and new ways of soothing.

I also recently had a chance to spend some one-on-one days with the Bean, and that was a joy. I took her out for tea in Montclair at one of my favorite shops--one that I don't get into as much as I'd like. She drank her tea served in a tiny porcelain cup and delighted in her berry scone. We discovered that her favorite Montclair shop, Dolls in the Attic, had closed and been replaced with some repetitive boutique. (That was sad for both of us, because to enter its doors was to celebrate childhood.) The Bean has a bit of the city in her, somehow: she likes to socialize, tour, eat and create. The trip also had a bit of indulgence in it: when she was young we would include shopping in our routine as we could or were driven to do. These days, shopping is rare and now a little special again. What I mean is, it's special in the way you might spend time with others while doing it, like when the Bean was tiny and we would take shopping jaunts with another new, shocked mother.

What I want to say is this. Watching two different children develop into their original selves is absolutely fantastic. We are a year past intense two-child craziness, and now past the follow-up year of less-intense two-child craziness. If I can keep work in check until we have two-child schooling (or some other adventure) I expect to just have loads of fun watching them become themselves: close, but very different, sister friends.