Creative Millie

Millie is going to be three years old this week. There is so much to love about this little girl, and I need to write some of it down so I don't forget her sweetness. I don't think it's a stretch to say that Millie is not like other children. She is a bit of an old soul, and has never given me the kind of typical problems most children bring to their parents. She has never had a meltdown tantrum in public, and only a handful of times at home has it come close. I never even really had to child-proof our home because she just didn't get into things she shouldn't.

Her most cherished possession is her family. If she sees a lost animal (be it a dog or a spider or a lizard) she tells me it is on its way home to find its family. It is usually named Nini and has a Mommy, a Daddy, and a Baby Yook. She is usually very gentle and kind to Luke and likes to help me take care of him. Fortunately he's a pretty good trooper the times she decides to play more roughly and tackles him. She believes she can run and jump, but I have no fear of her ever running too fast for me to catch her.

One of the funnest things about Millie these days is her creative imagination. She has started to invent games, and often wants to play them all day long. I have to admit I'm not very good at indulging her because the rules are pretty demanding and as soon as I play along she corrects everything I say. She plays simple games like having a picnic, going grocery shopping in my cupboards, or making a carousel out of her ride-on toys. But sometimes she comes up with real gems: throwing a birthday party for a stuffed monkey that necessarily consists of baking a cake that includes real fruit snacks and applesauce (mean Mommy puts her foot down on opening them); throwing a circus and pretending to be the Ringmaster by standing on a platform and talking into an empty cardboard tube to amplify her voice; fishing for "gooey fish" with giant fake gerber daisies (every time I tell her I caught a fish, she informs me that I've caught a hippopotamus or a book instead); or my personal favorite: Messy Piggy--a game where she pretends to jump in a mud puddle and splashes around, then jumps into a pond to clean herself off.

I have a feeling that Luke and Millie are going to teach each other a lot. I hope he grows up playing her games and being her favorite playmate. I hope she teaches him to exercise a little caution at times, but to love his family with his whole heart. I hope he teaches her to experience new things from time to time and to pick herself up again when she falls down without always looking around for some sympathy.

Just the other day at the park, I asked Millie if she wanted to swing. She's usually willing to try, but immediately wants to get back down. This time was no different, at first. Then we stuck Luke in a swing, and he cackled with joy as we pushed him higher and higher into the air. As she watched him, she decided to stay in the swing and that it would be okay if we pushed her a little higher. Soon enough, she was smiling and laughing, too, and didn't want to get back down for a long time. Those are the moments when I am most grateful that they have each other. I love them both for all of the ways they are different, and hope their differences complement each other throughout the coming years.