I realize here while I write that she is growing into a self assured little person. It makes sense, too, why she's all of a sudden having tantrums and crying uncontrollably when things do not unfold exactly as she has them planned. Being independent is wonderful and exhilarating and scary as hell.
Her friends are turning four and she has said more than once, "I think I will recognize so and so when he turns 4." Followed by, "I wonder what I'll be like when I'm 4."
The other night I had a dream that she and I were walking along a path and I had a distinct feeling I'd been there before. In a waking state though I can't recall ever being there. We're walking along and come to this bridge that is wide enough for only one of us. I was trying to convince her to cross the bridge by herself, silently knowing that I was too scared once to cross that bridge alone. I can't remember what happened next. I'm sure I'll see it again soon. I walk around stewing about this dream and thinking that parenting is so hard. It's wonderful and exhilarating and scary as hell and at most moments I really wonder if I'm saying the right things or making the right decisions. Only time will tell, I suppose. In the meantime, Mahalia continues being hilairous and sweet and challenging and smart and delicious.
