Happy 4th birthday Clara Godfrey
You are four years old today. Four! It’s been an amazing (and amazingly hectic) year. It’s almost impossible to sum up all that has happened over the past 12 months, but I’ll try anyway. This is not even remotely in chronological order.
Stubbornness:
If I had to use one word to describe you, this would be it. Which is weird because it’s not like your mom or dad are stubborn at all…
In fact, “stubbornness” is probably too broad of a category, so let’s break this down a bit.
#1: A very, ahem, strong personality:
You’ll battle against pretty much anything and everything, against pretty much anyone, anywhere, anytime, for seemingly any reason. A typical conversation in our house:
Clara: “Can I have that”
Me: “Sorry, that’s not a toy”
Clara: “No, I want it!”
Me: “I understand that you want it, but it’s not a toy so you can’t have it”
Clara: (through tears and screams) “BUT I WANT IT!!!”
Or…how about Mother’s Day tea at your preschool. Despite apparently having a great time, you decided, for unstated reasons, that you absolutely did not want to smile for the Mother/Daughter photo. Why? I doubt even you knew. But once your mind was made up, that was that.
This same cycle repeats with a variety of topics, including
- Whenever school is closed — “No, school is NOT closed!”
- Food — Clara: “I want a cookie!” Me: “Maybe, but you have to eat dinner first” Clara: “NO!!! I want a cookie” Me: “I know you want a cookie, but you can’t have one unless you eat your dinner”
- Wanting something that doesn’t exist. Example — we’ll be out running errands and you’ll get thirsty and ask for milk. Me: “I don’t have any milk, want some water?” Clara: “No I want milk!” Me: “I understand that you want milk, but I don’t have any to give you. The only thing I have for you to drink is water. Do you want that?” Clara: “I want milk!!”
Another great example was a recent night well after bedtime
Clara: “yap yap yap” (or equivalent)
Jess: “Clara the brothers are trying to sleep you need to keep your mouth shut.”
Clara: “I don’t want it shut I want it OPEN!!!”
Me: “Wait, are we talking about Clara’s mouth or the door?”
Either way, you are very particular. You want what you want, how you want it, and when and where you want it.
#2: A reality distortion field:
You display a complete unwillingness to cede to reality when it doesn’t match your wants or desires.
Clara: “We go to Trinta?” (Trinta is where the boys play little league and Clara loves to ride her scooter and eat junk food)
Me: “Yes, tomorrow we’re going to Trinta to watch your brother’s game.”
Clara: “NO!! Go to Trinta!!”
Me: “Yes, we are going to Trinta. The game is tomorrow and so we’re going then.”
Clara (collapsing in a heap on the floor): “NO!!! NO!!! Mom said Trinta!! Waaaaaah!!! Ahhhhh!!!! Oooooh!!!”
Me (walking away): “Yes, Mom did say Trinta. Tomorrow.”
This goes round and round, with escalating screaming, all as I try to explain in vain why we need to wait until tomorrow, and you try to to explain to me why “No, NOW!”
#3: The ability to scream like a banshee:
Maybe not exactly an example of your stubbornness, but your scream and the ensuing tantrums are the inevitable result of it. I’m talking crazy tantrums. Like screaming and jumping and barely able to breathe type tantrums. It’s exhausting to watch, which is why I often just walk away — thereby sending the tantrum into ludacris mode.
In fairness, I do warn you at least a couple times that you need to calm down or I’m going to put you down and walk away. And in your defense, you have learned that I’m not bluffing, and the frequency and duration of tantrums has decreased. Just not quite as fast as I’d hoped.
Your classic move is now to try and deflect the need to calm down by suggesting that you are working out the issue with someone else. I’ll say “you need to calm down before we can talk” or even just “stay calm” and you’ll get even more upset and scream “NO! I WAS TALKING TO MOM!!!!!!” And I guess that means you don’t have to calm down?
Maybe next year’s post will be all about how stable and calm and respectful you’ve become. Hmm…who is being delusional now?
OK, let’s pivot to something a bit cheerier…
Life of the party:
You used to be scared of pretty much everyone. Always cowering behind my leg and refusing to look at or talk to even our close family friends. Shortly after your 3rd birthday, you began, slowly, to come out of your shell. It started with Robyn and Jason, who treated you like the daughter they never had.
And at some point you just became the life of the party. Robyn, Kerri, Emily, Liz and the other moms without daughters pick you up, carry you around, pay attention to you, and are just generally nice to you. You know, all the things your brothers (and parents) don’t do.
You even get into the action with the dads. You brush Larry’s hair or steal his nose and joyfully scream “how DARE you say that!”. You sit down for serious games of Connect Four or chess. And if there’s any place you love more than Trinta, it’s Fieldwork Brewing, or as you call it “Field Trip!”
Dogs:
As scared as you were of people, you were way more scared of dogs. Until, suddenly, you sort of weren’t. We went over to Carter Well’s house for pre-Thanksgiving “Friendsgiving” dinner, and somehow someway you bonded with Wilson. And that moment was all it took. Now you pet dogs, walk dogs. You even pretend you are a dog (which I don’t love). By the time you’re old enough to read, I suspect you’ll be begging to own a dog. When you do, I’ll refer you back to this post where I respond with “ask your mother.”
Speaking of dogs…
You follow me around like a dog. I’ll turn around and find that you’ve sidled up behind me and it’s all I can do not to trip and collapse on top of you. Or I’ll go to take a hilarious picture with Mom before the big charity hoe-down event, just to find you’ve snuck in there
When I’m using the bathroom it’s only a matter of time before you come in to ask me what I’m doing (I think you know). Someone in a past life must’ve gone out for cigarettes and never come back. But you don’t have to worry about that, I’ll always come back (eventually). Plus, I don’t smoke.
Friends:
Lest you think your only friends are dogs and middle-aged adults, you’ve finally started making a couple friends your own age. Grady is a favorite, even though he’s six months younger and twice your size (it averages out). And I think you still consider Cody (aged 7.5) to be one of your best friends. But your true bestie is Zane.
It probably helps that he lives next door and likes to pop in unannounced (as do you at his house). You’re constantly asking “can I go to Zane’s house?” and of course you melt down whenever the answer is “No” or “maybe later” or “Zane isn’t home right now” (to which, you scream “YES HE IS!!” — see “reality distortion field” section above).
Grandma!
You’re finally old enough to have real conversations with Grandma. You even got to visit her in the Seattle for the first time — all by yourself! (I flew up with you, but then went off to run 32 miles through the woods for some reason even I don’t understand).
You had so much fun that you keep asking when you get to go back. You have even preemptively packed a bag with all your essentials — Simon game, pink ski helmet, glowing spiky ball, 8 pairs of pants (no shirts), and a bag of balloons. Given this whole Covid-19 pandemic I’m not sure when we’ll get to visit Grandma again or vice-versa, but thankfully she came to visit us shortly before everything got shut down. I can’t describe how amazing it is to watch my mom and daughter bond and build such a special and loving relationship.
Awesomeness:
For everything you will ever become, just remember to always be awesome:
Clara: My hair’s not pretty
Jess: Yes it is. It’s pretty.
Clara: It’s not
Jess: You’re very pretty
Me: You don’t want to be pretty, you want to be awesome
Jess: That’s right Clara. Be awesome!
Clara: Like a robot!? (Then you run off)
Me (in my mind): Yes Clara, exactly like a robot
Girlie-girl:
You are robot-style awesome, no doubt. But do you have a little girlie-girl in you? Oh, let me count the ways…
How about that time some friends dropped off a box of princess dresses (thanks a lot, btw). You were SO excited (and still are). No matter how much they itch, no matter how many times they dip into your ketchup, no matter how many times you trip over them and fall, you still pull one out whenever you find the latest hiding place. I guess there’s room for a little bit of princess in our lives
Gaby definitely helps you embrace your inner girlie girl. Fixing your hair, painting your nails, and helping you put together some epic outfits (OK, I’m guilty of that last one too):
And in true girlie-girl fashion, you love pink clothes, pink water bottles, pink bags, pink hats, pink boots and pink toys. But for some reason, you steadfastly refuse to eat out of the pink bowls. Ever. Always an enigma.
Mom:
As you teeter between girlie-girl and robot-awesome, it’s Mom who keeps you balanced. Or maybe she whipsaws you from extreme to extreme. Regardless, you are basically her. You dress the same, act the same, yell at me the same, nap at random hours of the day the same.
And you look the same. Identical. One of these is you, the other is Mom at age 4. Which is which? If I didn’t recognize my backyard, I doubt I’d be able to tell.
You even talk like her. Like that time I walked in on you talking into your fitbit: “Hey siri, call it’s me Jessica Wu.” Pause. “Oh, hello!”
Don’t get me wrong — you and Mom have some EPIC mutually-inflicted meltdowns. You definitely know how to push her buttons and vice-versa. But that mother-daughter bond is so special, so real, that even after the most intense breakdowns you two are usually only minutes away from a deep snuggle. Maybe hours. Definitely not days. Most of the time.
Let’s move on…
Wake up service:
Speaking of snuggling, you had a loooooong stretch of time where you’d crawl into our bed every “morning” (now it’s only most mornings). Sometimes you come in at 7am, but usually it’s closer to 5:30. Often earlier. It would be lovely if you just wanted to sleep with us. Or snuggle. Or stare blankly at the ceiling. But instead you want to roll around, tug the blankets, and smash your head into my face. And to suck your thumb loudly, or cry, or whimper. Or all of the above.
All this might be tolerable, if you didn’t demand “scratch my back!!” and then get upset whenever the scratch-a-palooza ends. (As an aside to adults reading this — how amazing must it be to have someone with hands almost as big as your entire midsection scratch your back? Jealousy doesn’t even start to describe my emotions). You give us a brief respite when you leave to use the bathroom, except you turn the lights on full-blast in my face, and leave the lights on and door open when you return. Brutal.
I feel like I have a newborn again, never getting a full nights sleep, always tired, praying for quiet so I can maybe dose off for just a bit longer. But unlike a newborn, at least you’re potty trained now. So at least we have that going for us, which is nice.
Brothers:
You’re fearless (some might say reckless). Whatever the boys are doing, you want to do it too. Jump off the bed? Of course. Piggie back ride? No doubt! Goofy selfie? Count you in. Hit live pitching? Tball is for babies!
And dodgeball with a bunch of 1st and 2nd graders? Obviously
Maybe that’s why you always seem to be wearing a helmet? (see earlier dog walking photo)
You even want their anatomy:
Clara: “When I’m older I’ll have a penis like my brothers.”
Me: “Sorry Clara, you’ll be sitting to pee your whole life”
Clara: (shrugs, disbelievingly)
Dancing Queen:
You’ve become very into singing, which is adorable until it’s not. About the 10th time through the same broken lyric, my patience starts to wear a bit thin. Especially since, sad to say, you appear to have my less-than-perfect pitch. Said another way — you can do anything you set your mind too, except sing professionally. Or pee standing up. But anything else.
But dancing? There we might be on to something. You have the motivation, the athleticism, and definitely the spirit. And the rhythm is coming along. I’m too lazy to make another animated gif, but I think these stills pretty much say it all:
And if that doesn’t work out, you can always fall back on your dream of being a super hero:
Dad:
You and I have the most engrossing conversations about important life topics, like this one for example:
Me: “Farts are gross” (no idea what prompted me to state this)
You: “No, they’re just air”
Me: “That’s true”
You: “Whales fart, and dolphins, and fishies, and daddy”
Me: “Probably, probably, maybe, definitely”
You frequently make these types funny observations and are now old enough to actually express them and sort of make some sense sometimes. You make me laugh out loud (and scream even louder). Unlike your brothers, you still let me tickle you, burble you, flip you upside down, and just generally treat you like a little kid. You still like to sit on my lap. Your favorite thing in the world (besides snack food) is having me read you a book.
You’re witty, lively, hilarious, joyful, and precocious (tricky word, I know. But trust me, it’s a good thing). And you’re most definitely awesome like a robot. I love you so so much. Happy birthday Clara
