Interview at Two

Metta: What are you going to do for a job when you are bigger?
Gigi: I play and I paint and I help and I share.

Metta: What is your favorite color?
Gigi: Blue. (The other hundreds of times we have talked about this, the answer was always pink).

Metta: How old are you?
Gigi: I'm two.

Metta: What should we name your baby brother?
Gigi: Gouda cheese!  His name is Gouda cheese!

Metta: What is your favorite food?
Gigi: Mexico. Candy or watermelon or pretty things.

Metta: What do you like to buy at the store?
Gigi: Some lollypops. Shall we sing the lollypop song?

I had an idea from a friend a few years ago to do mini-interviews with my kiddos in order to take a little snapshot in time, but with this first attempt I noticed that it's a little too early to start.  Asking questions put Gigi on the spot, and most of them totally flopped when she responded with her silly made up words and broke into giggles.  It is her way of coping when she doesn't fully understand what is expected of her.

But in the normal context of life, she is really quite good at communicating with the world.  Some of the things I want to remember about Gigi right now are how she wakes up in the morning and sings songs until I go and get her out of her crib (usually "I am a Child of God", or "I love Mommy, she loves me").  I want to remember that she said that she wants to marry Leonardo da Vinci, that she is obsessed with ballet, and I want to remember how she says my new favorite phrase, "...or something like dat".  If we are planning lunch she might chime in with a little shrug, "Shall we eat sandwiches, or bananas... or something like dat?"  It is my favorite thing that she says, because it's is jolting to hear such adult nonchalance coming out of the mouth of a little girl.

I also want to remember how resourceful she is.  Walking through the airport a month ago on our way to Utah, I could barely keep up with her as she raced from one stranger with snacks to another.  What do people do in the terminal?  They eat.  And here was Gigi in their face with cupped hands asking eagerly, "May I please have some?".  Nobody said no to her.  At every one of her snack breaks I had to jog up and say loudly, "Gigi, I have a lot of snacks packed for you in our bag!" so that strangers wouldn't think I had starved her.  A bit mortifying as a parent, and yet I'm a little in awe of her courage.

And then there are a few things I might want to remember in the future, but only so that I can contrast the before and after and say, "Wow, look how far we've come".  Because I am hoping, and praying, and hoping, and crossing my fingers that we can channel some new developments into character traits that will add beautifully to the girl that she can become.  In the past few weeks I have had to remind myself frequently that she was born with some powerful qualities that will serve her well in the future, as long as we are diligent now to help her channel those qualities into their most positive expression. I will not miss her self-reports each week after church ("I was naughty at nursery today!"), I will not miss these power struggles, I will not miss the "Go away!" and "That's MINE!" and "Don't DO that!" and her acts of rebellion.  Marcos reminds me that this won't last forever, and although logically I know that it's true, sometimes I just have a hard time feeling that it's true. Can someone with a willful child please promise me that this too shall pass? This is just a developmental thing.... right? The majority of the time she is sweet and mild mannered and endearing and witty, but my hours of struggling with her are starting to eclipse the peaceful impression I have of her.

*sigh*