Look at Me, I'm Almost Three

Punch & Judy--my three-part blog name for the little girl who is like family to us--is here for a sleepover.

Punch will be three next month. She is 2 and 11/12th years old. Because she is here, I have three Disney princess stickers lovingly placed on my body--Cinderella on my shin, Jasmine on my left hand and a blonde in a puffy pink gown on my forearm. She had to do it quite carefully before she went to sleep, also putting Ariel on her own small hand.

She fought sleep until 11 P.M., even after a very long bath with lavender baby bubbles and tales of a make-believe fish [she proclaimed that the little magenta dolly comb I handed her in the tub was a fishie--and a bad fishie at that].

She had to have many books read to her; play with and hold the red kitchen timer in bed; ask if we could bake cookies tomorrow and then eat them; drink two baby bottles of a little apple juice diluted with a lot of water; tinkle twice on the toilet; and go in and talk to Fig, in her room across the hall.

She had to rub her special soft pink blanket (a gift we gave her when she was about 15 months old), arrange two Ugly Dolls on our pillows and, finally, unable to fight the Sandman anymore, watch with fluttering eyes while I shined the flashlight Fig takes to camp on the ceiling, making the weak light beam dance and singing my very off-key versions of Kumbaya, Yellow Bird and It's a Small World.

Now I lay me down to sleep too. Tomorrow is another day, and I will need to summon up some serious energy.