Sometimes I talk to G now, and am stunned when in response to a substantive bit of dialog I instead get an empy “Huh?” in return. Generally speaking, she has gotten that smart that I expect a good conversation.

She has opinions, she has plans, she has thoughts, she has motivating issues.   But she has so much love and sweetness that dealing with her is painfully easy, for the hardest of subjects.   4 hours in the car – give her a movie and a snack and a hug and tell her we are heading to the beach or the mountains and its no problem.   Need to wash her hair, ask her to get it wet for you.   She’s bored, ask her for help in whatever you are doing.

She has a mild discoloration from her big raspberry, and as I ask her to let me rub it, she tolerates and repeats “rub the mark to move around the blood.”   I taught her to read the wind, using words that make no sense and seem contradictory when you say them.

Me:   Do you hear this? Its quiet
G: ??
Me: Do you hear this? This is upwind
G: Daddy I hear the wind!

She gets upset and the storm within her builds, and I say “Relax. Relax, we’ll get [x]“.   And she buys it, and steps off the ledge.   I noticed my father using the same phrase around her.   I wonder who got it from whom?

I pack her blanket, and pack her pretzels in a bag to take to the beach. She tenses, I tell her I am packing them for the beach, she relaxes and gets on her shoes.

A friend accused me of playing favorites. I don’t think its favorites, there is room for more littleGirls, I just like what G is all about.   I like it a lot.   Magic times with my witty cheery best friend. Trips to the park and pounces when I come home are the blood diamonds of my civil war against parenthood.