If you continue to cry like this I fear that my heart will turn to stone and I will stop caring all together. Cry like what?
Cry like you did this morning because you didn't like the purple shirt I picked out and because I told you that the zoo catalog couldn't go to school.
I know - those things are not worth tears, but that doesn't stop you from turning on the water works complete with jutting out lower lip and quivering chin. Normally when I see you upset, mouth all turned down and your big eyes so sad, I melt a little. I try to make what ever is troubling you better, because seeing you distressed makes me blue. But lately the tears have been on demand and for inconsequential, downright silly, things.
In the last week or so here are the things that you blubbered over:
You were being silly and you spilt your milk. You literally cried over spilt milk.
Your cousin didn't want to play the game you suggested, so you sulked in the corner.
I offered you Skittles and and you wanted M&Ms.
Only getting to pick out five books at the library.
You slept in, because you were exhausted, and then sobbed because Jake and the Neverland Pirates was no longer on.
Tears because you didn't like the outfits I laid out or the bows I put in your hair or your pigtails or braids.
Tears because Daddy said no when you asked for a fourth piece of candy.
Tears when the cat swiped at you, after you had hit her in the face with your Halloween bucket.
Tears because your sticker ripped, your seatbelt was twisted, your socks were too small.
Tears because your piece of chalk broke, magnet fell off the door, book was missing.
And part of me rationalizes that you sense that our world is changing. You know that the baby is on her way and may try to take over your throne. I know that you are excited to be a big sister and meet our sweet littlest lady, but I also know you are worried. Worried that Mommy and Daddy won't have time for bedtime books or midday snuggles. Worried that we won't still play Candyland and Old Maid and Princess Bingo. I am sure that you wonder if there is enough room for all of us in our house and whether or not you will have to share your precious toys.
I try to keep in mind that you are four and yet smart enough to know that big changes are on the horizon. I try to remind myself that you may be feeling sensitive and needy, wanting to make sure that you still have Mom and Dad and Grandma under your spell...and you do.
We all still love you as much as ever. We are excited to see what a wonderful sister you will be - how you will teach and care for and protect your baby sister. We are excited to watch you turn your back on being the baby and run full speed ahead into being the big girl of the house.
But the tears, the ridiculous, dramatic tears must end.
I will always comfort you when you've scraped your knee or hurt yourself. I will always soothe you when you are scared or worried or overwhelmed. When something hurts your heart or your sensibilities, I promise to listen and care.
But the rest of this drama mama ridiculousness? I'm totally over it.