Abby's Domestic Pursuits

I've posted a lot about Lydia lately, so it's only fair that Abby gets a post to herself.

When Josiah is battling dragons and enemies, Lydia is his comrade and henchman, and Abby is the princess they defend. Whatever permutation their characters take--rabbits-with-swords, Robin Hood & Co., King Arthur's Court, Narnia, etc.--Abby is a princess. I often overhear her say to the others, demurely, "And then you saw a [baby/beautiful/bunny/lamb/etc.] princess." She claims the prettiest dress-up gowns as her own (the gold dress of my childhood is now her prized raiment--and the point of contention between the sisters when Lydia decides she'd like a turn at playing the damsel). Often when she's dressed up, she comes to me and asks, "Mama, you think I'm bootiful?"

In outdoor play these days, Abby spends much of her time in the mud kitchen Jeremy and my cousin Maureen constructed. She's clearly mistress of the kitchen, though the others like to dig, sift, mix, and combine dirt, too. Abby likes to assign the others tasks to help her, though they don't always cooperate. Sometimes they trek around the yard with their pots of dirt, Josiah doing "science experiments" and the girls making picnics on their travels.

Clara likes to be in the thick of the action, of course. She plagues the big kids by spilling their carefully crafted sand-pies--and then biting in retaliation when they push her away. But where Abby used to bug Clara almost incessantly, I've seen a sweet relationship blossom between the two younger ones in the last few weeks. (Lydia is now more likely to be the culprit in bugging Clara these days.) Somehow Clara and Abby devised a game in which they hold hands while Clara pulls around the toy lawnmower. Several days in a row, Clara made a bee-line for the lawnmower when the kids ran outside, and then held out her hand to Abby.

Indoors, Abby plays a crawl-and-chase game with Clara that is so cute to watch, too. Clara likes to pretend she's a doggie, and Abby encourages her to follow her around the rooms on all fours, both laughing and barking and screeching.

Lydia and Abby get along pretty well, too. I usually have them do joint "room-time" when I do reading with Josiah. Today they made a train of Lydia's gear toys and set up all their stuffed animals on it. They were hooting with laughter at all the funny ways their animals rode the train. At lunch the other day they kept whispering "jokes" in each other's ears and launching into peals of laughter over and over. They often pretend to be lambs, babies, or some other creature--but usually "shisters." I saw them paging through a book together the other day, "claiming" the characters they wanted to be as they looked at the illustrations. This being a book of Greek myths, many of the characters were unsavory (think: Medusa), so there was often only one good, beautiful heroine per story. They both, of course, wanted to be this girl. So Abby said, "We both can be her. We're twins."

Abby has been quite the willing helper lately. She often comes to me and says, "Can I help you, Mama?" She likes to sort and put away the silverware when we unload the dishwasher, wash lettuce and veggies for salad, set the table, or poke the eggs for breakfast. Tonight Jeremy took Josiah, Lydia, and Clara with him on a bike ride to Ace, so Abby and I had a nice hour together preparing dinner. She loved washing the strawberries, watching the cream whip, and licking the beater. She set the table for me and chose pretty trivets for the hot items. Then she wanted me to tell her stories about when I was a little girl while we finished up. "Maybe a story of when you was naughty?" she asked. "Or when you and Daddy went fishing?"

When she's a little sad or out-of-sorts or even in a post-tantrum state of tragic-weepy-drooliness, she often says to me, "I just want to be wif you, Mama. I just want you." Despite the storms of emotion--ranging quickly from piercing screeches to torrential sobbing to angry raspberries to tearful remorse--she is a dear. She hugs me fiercely around the neck each night at bedtime and likes to give many kisses. She tells me she loves me many times a day--especially when she's trying to be sweet to make up for defiance or naughtiness.

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It's been a long time since Abby has taken a regular nap. She chooses her five books to take to rest time with her, pages through them on her bed, and then usually turns to her stuffed animals and her imagination to fill the rest of the designated time. She seems to lose all sense of volume control, though, and I often hear her hollering or calling loudly in different voices as she plays some game she's come up with all along in her room. I poke my head in and ask her to quiet down, but she's usually back at the loud proclamations in another five minutes or so.

Abby is working on staying dry at night so she can ditch her diaper. We've had more successful nights lately, which is encouraging! Perhaps it helps to have Lydia working on quitting her thumb-sucking at the same time; Abby doesn't feel as singled-out or "babyish."

Four years old--how can it be?! Seems to be like she should still be about Clara's age in some ways. (Yes, I realize this is the worn-out mantra of all parents.) But I love to see her blooming into girlhood, this sweet Abigail of mine.