My love for Miss Talitha June grows fonder every day. She has such a particular way about her… she has all of the normal three year old tendencies, lots of questions, a wiggly body, and temper tantrums. But then there’s the part that makes her uniquely Tilly. The way she introduces me to her friends at preschool “Mama, I’d like to introduce you to my friend Cooper. Cooper, this is my mama. (and then whispers) I’m going to marry him one day!” The way she constantly assigns roles to everyone as if she’s the director in a play. “I’m the chef, you’re the cook. I’m Ariel, you’re Prince Eric. I’m an animal, you’re the zoo keeper. I’m the mama, you’re Tilly.”
The way she swoons over makeup and jewelry, not because she doesn’t like herself the way she naturally is, but because she likes the feeling of the sticky lip gloss, the clink of the bangles, the way the clip-on earring brushes against her neck when she twirls. The way she gallops everywhere. Rarely a run, occasionally a walk, but most often, it’s a gallop. The way she tries to turn everything into a lasso so she can play cowgirl, and how she asked me if she could be a bull rider when she grows up.
The way her eyes lit up when we saw the astronaut costume in the grocery store and we decided she just had to have it. The way she is fascinated with her body and how it works and “wants to know EVERYTHING.” She told Buzz the mechanic next door that she got a library book about bodies so she can learn how butts work.
The way she is baby crazy and wonders when she’ll have a baby of her own. She makes references to her future little sister all the time, saving old toys and favorite dresses for her. The way she grabs the ukulele whenever a good song comes on and seriously rocks out. She has certain faces for slow songs and other faces for fast songs – it’s all in the eyebrows. Usually mama is assigned the fiddle role and papa is asked to be drummer or bass player.
The way she says “I love you” out of the blue to us about thirty times a day. The way she thought to stuff a picture of me in her coat pocket when I leave for the day, so that she can pull it out when she misses me. The way she worries about Josh when he plays soccer on Monday nights because he’s going to be up too late and may not get enough sleep.
Tilly – you are my precious, strong willed, kind, genius of a daughter and I LOVE YOU!