Merry Christmas to Mr. J & Missy

"It's Brown Bear's birthday today. He's three," you grin at me as you squeeze your precious stuffed bear. Your eyes twinkle with delight. You disappear for about half an hour as I answered morning e-mails. I see you grab the Spiderman gift wrap. Some tape. Various pieces of cardboard and cotton puffs. You come back with two makeshift packages.

"I've wrapped some presents for Brown Bear. Where should I put them?" you inquire.

"Under the tree," I smile at your ingenuity and thoughtfulness. After all, if it's Brown Bear's birthday, he's gotta receive some gifts! "So, what did you buy Brown Bear?"

"Some bones. And a bowl for his food."

My son, you are creative and imaginative. I marvel (and sometimes cringe) at the battle scenes you enact with your Lego creations. I chuckle as you belt out songs from the bathroom during your morning routine. I swell with joy when I see you creating a Batmobile from a discarded cardboard box, pillows and construction paper (though Mommy's clutter meter goes haywire when the paper scraps from your creation remain on your floor for too long). And apparently you pretend to be a superhero on the school playground, rescuing the little girls from the villains! I thank the Lord that your mind is active and you are busy in a oh-so-good way. 

"Can we play a game tomorrow? Any game," you ask daily, just before you go to bed.

"Maybe," I reply. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. Sorry that I don't play one with you everyday. Merry Christmas Mr. J. Your Mommy & Daddy love you more than our cuddles can demonstrate.

* * *

"Why did the banana go to the doctor?" you ask.

"Why?"

"Because he wasn't peeling well!" I laugh. You beam. You try to find another joke to bring joy to your parents.

Moments later you return to your room and sit at your purple desk with the faux crystal knobs. You're colouring. You LOVE colouring. Markers, pens, crayons, twistables -- you name it! All the beautiful colour spills on to pictures of owls, princesses and flowers courtesy of you. Many of your creations are distributed as simple gifts for friends and family. You are generous with your gifts (thanks for using some of your AWANA bucks to buy Daddy a Christmas tie and Mommy a Christmas oven mitt/pot holder set). You cherish gifts in return. It is one of your love languages.

Your door shuts. I hear your speaking out loud. I knock and poke my head in, curious. "What are you doing?" 

"Oh, I'm reading to my class," you state as a matter of fact. Of course! I should know.

My daughter, you are our little Miss. big girl -- dreaming to be all grown-up -- imagining when you can join the ranks of female professionals, wearing lipstick and eye shadow.

"I think I will be a Veterinarian on Mondays and Wednesdays. And a Doctor on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Or maybe I'll be a Teacher! Or a Lifeguard."

Keep dreaming my sweet girl. Forgive me for the times I am too pragmatic, when I interrupt your dreams with a dose of reality. I don't want you to be disappointed or misled in your life. But neither do I want to prematurely strip away your childhood naivety. So dream and pretend and role play as this stage will soon disappear much too rapidly for me. Merry Christmas Missy. Your Mommy & Daddy love you more than our words can express.

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