No sunlight

I keep despondently singing the Death Cab song in my head. It feels like daylight will never return in the capacity my body needs it to. Apparently my Vitamin D level is "critically low" and I need to take some or something. Or the sun could just hurry it up already.

The closer we creep to Lilah turning 4, the more sweet and fun she grows. But she also grows more defiant and independent as well. It's such a hard balance to strike, and her moods swing hard for no apparent reason. In the same day she can help me with baking or crafts, and end up tear-streaked and angry because some small thing was denied her. I started to realize last week that we might have gone to far with her. We have so many celebrations and special things during the year that she's grown accustomed to them. I like to bake, so there's nearly always a cake or a few dozen sweet treats lying around. So many people love her that it's almost weekly someone is bringing her a rose (she asks the gardeners around town for roses, since she's "a Rose". She feels she has some right to them) or toy or small thing that made them think of her. Her Auntie takes her on special dates, she has skype dates with friends and grandparents, and people at local businesses know her by name and regard her kindly when they see her. The ladies at the farmer's market always pinch her cheeks and let her choose the "best" parsnips - her favorite vegetable. But for as much as Lilah charms everyone she meets into submission to her whims, we have so far been lucky that her will has fallen in step with ours for the most part. We have had to do very little but gently steer her in the direction we'd like her to go and she has happily complied. Bad days aside, we have had an easy road for the most part.

I'm pretty sure it's normal for her age, but I feel like she's set herself against us just to see what will happen. Even when it means we're both exhausted with the sheer effort of battling wills with a tiny, loud, irrational person, we haven't budged. We've cut back on the sweet treats to weekends only. I still bake frequently, but the snacks get saved for after she goes to bed so we set a good example, or during the weekends. Special occasions like birthdays and holidays don't count, of course. I set up a chore chart with nickels attached to each task (soon to be pennies. She doesn't need $1.50/day at 4 years old). She has started doing the little things like folding washcloths, disinfecting door handles, dusting surfaces, setting and clearing the table. For the most part, she enjoys having "jobs" and earning money to buy things (she just discovered dollhouses and is fascinated). Tonight, she was in a mood while I made dinner.

"Mother, can I have a healthy snack?"
"No. We're having dinner in 20 minutes."
"Fine. Then can I play piano?"
"That's up to your dad. Ask him." Seconds later, I hear the piano despite Dano being upstairs. I went over and quietly removed her from the piano. She shrieked in anger.
"I WAS PLAYING THAT!"
"You didn't ask Daddy. You're a little girl. You don't just get to do whatever you want when you want to." She turned into a jellyfish and slid out of my arms. I removed her dress up gown and fairy wings and put them up. More shrieks.
"WHY DID YOU TAKE AWAY MY THINGS?"
"You can have them back later. You're acting like you need a break." I handed her the plates. "Chore time. Set the table please." She flung them back at me.
"No." I told her she had one more chance to do them like a big girl before she had to do them like a baby. She stomped up the stairs. "No. I'm going to go play in my room." Slammed door. She ended up with her door handle removed, led down the stairs, and walked to and from the table with me. After a couple trips, she shrugged my hand off her shoulder. "I can do it."

After that, as in all battles of wills lately, she was angelic. These little tempests are short-lived. As much as my blood boils beneath the surface and as nasty as she can get when she's mad, the calmer I stay, the more deliberately she's shown she can't win, the faster it's over and she's back to herself. The days are certainly more good than bad. She had the Show and Tell bag at school and was thrilled to take her small doll Caroline, all snug in her box in the bag. I was told that when Mrs Fuller asked "What do you have there?",
Lilah replied, "A box."
"Well okay. What's in the box?"
"A doll."
"Does the doll have a name?"
"It's Caroline."
"How long have you had Caroline?"
"Oh, about 30 years." Typical Lilah-edits.

Well, her birthday creeps closer. I'm preparing a little every week. I still can't believe my baby girl will be 4. Her last year of preschool. Her last year before "real" school. The fact that no babies are coming after her is slowly sinking in. It doesn't make me want another one. It just makes each moment feel so precious. And it makes me feel terrifically old.