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Amie, Daddy, and Rover’s adventure.
Dictated by Amie: Last week we went in the car for our adventure and Dad told me that we are going to see some cats and dogs and pet them. And then Dad asked somebody if we could take a dog with us. She picked a dog, his name was Rover. I was happy and Rover jumped and licked me! He was light brown and black and he was very fun actually! When we got to the woods, Daddy let me hold the leash. We walked and it was fun! It was so fun! We walked three miles in the woods: we went on some bridges and after all that…
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she says.
Amie and I come across the word “telephone” in our reading lesson. Amie: “Oh! I know what a telephone is! It’s from the past … like they didn’t have cell phones, they had phones with buttons and a cord and something you put up to your ear and mouth to talk.” me: “That’s right! Actually, did you know that when I was your age, we didn’t have cell phones at all? We just had telephones like you’re talking about.” Amie (eyes big): “Wow, Mom, you lived a long time ago! So did you, like, have to wear dresses all the time too?”
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she says.
[While we’re folding clothes] Amie: “I’m going to miss you too much when I go to college.” me: “I know, I’ll miss you too. But maybe you’ll go somewhere close by, like USC. Then you can come home on the weekends and see us and do your laundry.” Amie: “When I’m in college I’ll come home on the weekends and do your laundry!”
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birthday girl.
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amie is six!
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friday.
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five year old.
Our baby girl turned five this week. The other night David and I were watching home videos, laughing in delight and astonishment at our one-year-old Amelie toddling around, mostly hairless, with her big brown eyes and chubby fingers and toes, jabbering a mile-a-minute at the world around her. And now today she’s tall and slim, all long brown legs and bashful smiles in the presence of strangers. She’s losing that baby-girl innocence, she’s starting to notice looks exchanged and laughter at her cuteness and it embarrasses her. I watch her watching other girls, noticing their hair and clothes and shoes, and then sizing herself up, wondering where she fits. I ache inside,…
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our girl.
She’s an extrovert in a family of introverts. After a social event, when David and Judah and I retreat to three separate rooms with our books and Legos, Amie bounds from room to room debriefing about her day. For our girl, play time by herself is the worst sort of punishment. Her love language is physical touch. She wants to be in my lap, stroking my hair, having me scratch her back (or her arms or her face), sitting as close as humanly possible on the sofa. She feels deeply, knows what she wants and what she doesn’t. She’s in tune with the emotions of people around her and exudes…
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well visits.
We had our six and four-year-old well visits last week. Wait. Can you believe I have a six-year-old? And a four-year-old? I cannot. Judah is in the 95th percentile for height (no surprise there) and Amie is in the 85th. Both are around 75th for weight. Somehow these details seemed much more important when they were infants. If you’re a parent you may remember that the four-year-old well appointment is particularly rough (the worst, in my opinion), because they get their boosters. They’re old enough to know exactly what’s coming but not to understand why it has to happen. Amie got four shots and a finger prick. She screamed. She…
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birthday party.