What I Love About Sydney

I'm going to admit it. There are some days that I feel like my heart is going to burst with the love I have for my daughter. If I could have sat down in a meeting with God and told Him what kind of daughter I wanted, I would have asked for 100% Sydney. I look at her in amazement that I get to spend time on this earth with her and wonder that God gave her to me to raise. She is proof of God to me because there is nothing I have done in this life to deserve such a wonder.

She is outgoing and personable.

Today we took Jack to the doctor for a summer cold and in the waiting room, Sydney spoke to everyone and asked the other parents and children all sorts of questions. How old is she? Does she have a big sister? She wanted to get to know all of the kids in the waiting room. One parent asked, after almost five minutes of pure chatter from Sydney, "Is she always like this?"

Like this and more, I said. She is always talking to folks and I think it's precious. She has never met a stranger and is oblivious to the kinds of differences in people that sometimes lead to discomfort. I have heard her ask a woman with an obvious skin deformity what's on her nose in the same tone that she asked another lady what color flower was on her shirt. She spoke to the baby with Down's Syndrome in the doctor's office with the same nonchalant attitude that she spoke to the little girl her own age. She walks up to other children and tries to befriend them and when they don't respond, she walks away to find another.

She thoughtful and imaginative. She is caring and kind.

In the car, on the way to today's out, Lakeshore Learning Store, Sydney commented that when she gets big, she won't go places any more. I always enjoy hearing her plans, whether it's her plan to become a dad when she grows up, or her theory that all of us will revert to babies in our old age. So I had to know: why won't she go places when she is big.

She explained to me that when she gets big she will drive her own car and so she won't go places with me. (A sad thought, I admit, but probably true.) Then, as she thought the whole thing through, she added, "But what about Jack? What will he do without his big sister to take care of him? I guess he will have to go in the car with me."

She is guileless and forthright.

At Lakeshore today, Sydney's favorite thing to play with were the wind-up toys. They have several out for display and many more wrapped in plastic for sale. Sydney wanted some of the "for sale" ones to play with. The employee was kind enough to unwrap a special dinosaur one for her to play with. I then saw Sydney unwrapping another wind-up dinosaur for herself. I warned her that she was not allowed to unwrap any more. I then walked away to look for some school supplies. Two employees came up to me a few minutes later, laughing and shaking their heads. "I love your daughter," said one. "She is too funny," said the other.

What had she done? She unwrapped another wind-up toy. The employee did just as I would have and said, "What would your mother say about that?"

Sydney's response? "I'm not going to tell her."

She is surprising and funny and clever.

I know that Jeremy and I encourage the art of negotiation to a sometimes extreme level. We can't help it. I don't know any other way to help a little person express themselves without any fits or temper tantrums. Sydney is not only allowed to argue with rules she doesn't like, she is rewarded by getting new rules if her arguments are convincing.

Now, sometimes, it doesn't work for her, but a lot of the time it does. This leads to her using phrases like, "but I'm trying to be reasonable" and "um, do you have any choices for me?" and "let's talk about this."

She also knows that these phrases make me and her dad laugh and that when amused, we are a whole new level of lenient with her. I console these parenting choices with the knowledge that the world does indeed work this way. People who are charming and funny do get away with more.

Tonight, Sydney was in full bedtime avoidance and since it had thundered about three hours before bedtime, she claimed to have heard some far off distant thunder bolt and ran from her room, terrified. Her father was putting her back to bed when she said, "But I'm really not tired. I don't like sleeping in my bed when it's thundering. I need to be in your bed. Pleeeeease. I'm trying to be reasonable."

To which I said, "Let me talk to your dad."

To which Sydney said, "Yes. Let me talk to you, mom."

To which Jeremy said, "No, I'm talking to your mother."

"Oh," said Sydney hopefully, "Are you going to make choices for me?"

She did get to watch some of The Sound of Music in my bed before getting sent off to her bed. I really did see that she wasn't tired enough for bed. I think it was the right choice because even after watching almost an hour of the movie, she still didn't go right to sleep.

She had time enough to gather all of her stuffed animals and a book and I can only guess from there:

I love her so much. I feel it every day, but today somehow, so much of who she was shone out and I just wanted to take the time to write it out.

She is my precious girl.