Guilt the Good and Guilt the Bad

The grounding has done the girl wonders. After she got over the 'this is so unfair' misguided attempts at disputing her punishments, she got it. Kindness returned, remorse appeared, and Lo! Her brother learned his most powerful technique to date: Guilt.
Whenever he remembers his owie or accidentally leans back on his wound, he feels it with his hand and says, "No dockor! No like it! Abeah (his name for Supergirl), why you hurt me? Why you push me?"
Is it wrong that I feel smug and satisfied to see that this is what really gets to her? I hope not.
Best consequence ever.
She has been wonderful.

Bubbles is healing nicely, and was back to his usually entertaining state right away.
The other day, I was procrastinating getting myself out of bed, and he leaned over and planted a huge kiss on my lips. Sat back proudly, and said, "Mama! I kiss you!"
I said, "You did! You gave me a big kiss!"
He then grinned and said, "I kiss you! You get me milk?"
This child is clever. He knows what to do so I can not refuse him.

His language is improving, but his intelligibility is not keeping up with his vocabulary, so there are many comical moments involving language. His oral motor exercises are also really helping - in one day he ate yogurt (spoon) and applesauce (tube) - and he has not eaten yogurt for a year, and has NEVER eaten applesauce - he just didn't have to coordination to properly swallow it before. He couldn't remember what yogurt was called, and he pointed to what Supergirl was eating, "I wan DAT!"
"You want yogurt?" I asked.
"YES! I want mee-gurt!"
He has been working hard at pronouns lately.

Bubbles has created some elaborate adventure games (something his preschool teacher mentioned before the break), and he has been asking me to come along.
He boldly puts himself between me and the laptop screen.
"Mama! Wan go walk me?"
"Sure! Where are we going?"
"Upstairs!"
He takes my hand and we have to stomp or sneak (his direction changes) up the stairs. The next part of the adventure usually involves going into their little bedroom or hiding under the covers of my big bed. At this point in the game, you have to yell, "OHNO! Skeery Dinosaurs! OHNO! They're coming!!" and you hide, hold your breath, gasp and giggle until the danger has passed and you can once again, return to the world outside the blanket.

At least five times each day, I find myself saying, "Three is so wonderful. I love three. Three is so lovely and fun and entertaining and oh wow - I just love three." I love that little guy so much. It's as if I had never had a three year old before.

And then I thought about that one for a while.

It's as if I had never had a three year old before.

And I feel so very sad for my little girl.
Because I do remember when she was three.
I remember it in snippets and snatches, but not enough of them.
I remember her swimming with a sea turtle in Maui on her third birthday.
We were in Maui because I could not be at home and still breathe.
I remember her asking me when I was going to get out of bed....at three pm.
I remember her telling people that she used to have a baby brother, but he died.
I remember making her a cake. But I don't remember what was on it.
I remember that she went to preschool, but I don't remember anything about it.
I took few pictures that year. I wanted no record then.
I remember yelling at her. A lot.
Too much.
I remember feeling that I had lost the magic.
Wanting it back; too tired or too sad to look for it.
I was barely there, barely cutting it as a mama.

Will she remember the yelling? The mama who wasn't there? Will she remember the glazed over eyes, the despair, the effort it took for her mama to get up every day?

Will she remember the years of trying so hard to make up for it all?


I love three.

Three is so bittersweet - I am trying to just enjoy it.

But oh how my heart feels so much guilt for my daughter.

Supergirl; doing the Hula on her 3rd birthday.