It's been too long since I've documented some good Bridget stories, or pictures. I'll start with her recent self-portrait on the easel in our garage. Nope, she's not sick with the measles or anything. Those are her freckles. Or, her "dot skin," as cousin Clara (lovingly?) refers to it, like Bridget's another rarely seen ethnicity.
Those freckles will be Bridget's distinguishing mark for her entire life. I just know it. She gets comments every day on them. Everything from, "You've got the map of Ireland on your nose," (my personal favorite) to "Each one of those freckles is an angel's kiss." Even if people don't remember her name, especially as they all get older and there will be less of a height difference to distinguish them, Bridget will always be The One With the Freckles. She doesn't seem to dislike them, for now, and probably regards them as another accessory in her ensemble every day.
Speaking of ensembles, in Bridget's mind, every day is an opportunity for a new outfit. She strongly dislikes wearing an outfit twice (boy, will she LOVE to wear the same uniform every day next year!!), and enjoys mixing and matching items from her wardrobe, as well as Megan's and the twins'. I can never guess what she'll want to wear, so she's left to her own devices in her closet every morning, and comes up with some crazy stuff. I present a few exhibits:
I can not forget her hair either! This is a project every morning after we drop Megan at school. Once we've all scrambled back into the car, we have an hour to kill between the two drop-offs, and the two most important items on the agenda are feeding Mary and doing Bridget's hair. Sometimes these two things can be done at the same time, depending on how nimble I'm feeling. Her hair is so fun because she has a different request every day, and I always have time to do it. Tessa and Annie wait patiently while Bridget details some hairdo she has seen in a book, or better yet, brings the book along for me to look at. She doesn't want me to screw it up, after all. Take this ponytail for example:
I totally screwed it up. It's not a perfect "little r." Don't ask me where that idea came from, but she wants "high, high" ponytails that look like a little "r" on her head. This picture was taken at her request so that she could survey my handiwork. It wasn't "high high" enough. I really can't wait for the girls to start doing each other's hair every morning!
And she is a shoe lover! Currently, she is wearing right through some open-toed patent yellow flats that Mop and Pop gave her. They are completely inappropriate for preschool, but they make her happy. This is her happy face:
These are some other emotions I can't quite label. But, that's Bridget. And, it was her idea to take these pictures, and then inspect each one afterwards. Ah, technology.
I'm pretty sure she's going to be The Actress With the Freckles before we know it.
Until then, though, she is trying very hard to master preschool. It's hard to be four. The art of making girlfriends is proving to be a tricky road for Bridget. Her concept of friendship was a little skewed for the first few months of school, while she was "friends" with a rather manipulative little girl who told her what to do, when to do it, and even hit her and pinched her! Bridget kept wanting to play with her, too. Even after many long conversations about what friends are and how she's too special to have anyone hit her, it took a little while to sink in. A few days after the pinching incident, she was about to hop out the car to head to school for the morning. Before saying goodbye, she proudly proclaimed, "I will
not be playing with Jane* today....(dramatic pause) ...if she's not at school today." Baby steps, I guess. (* a name has been changed to protect the identity of Bridget's "friend," even if she doesn't deserve it!)
In keeping with Bridget not quite getting this friend concept, she very eagerly reported that she
did have another friend. "I was washing my hands in the bathroom, and Greta* came in and asked if I was done." And...that's it. There's nothing more to that story, but in Bridget's mind, the fact that Greta* spoke to her is proof enough that they are friends. (*Once again, I'm protecting Bridget's "friend," -- this time with Bridget's favorite name, and my guilty pleasure girl's name.)
So, it would seem that we have a long road to hoe before Bridget is ready, socially, for kindergarten next year. I'm happy to report, though, that just this month she had her first solo playdate, and we have another one in the works. There is hope for her yet, especially since she came back from the first playdate talking a hundred words a minute about her new friend, and even more about the layout of the house. She is my daughter :) Her self-confidence was through the roof!
When she's not worrying about her friends or fashion, this little freckle face is my little buddy when she's home from school. She loves being the oldest kid in the house between the hours of 12 and 3, when she dictates any games and helps me with anything that needs to be "orzagized." I think this is really her stall tactic to be able to go down for a nap a little later than the twins, but she takes way too much pleasure in cleaning up her room before naptime, and likes to surprise me with what she's accomplished when I return from putting the twins down in their room. I am not discouraging this!! She's also our go-to table setter. I'm going to ride this helpful train as long as I can :)
As the one kind of stuck in the middle, she, very stereotypically, is pretty sensitive and dramatic. We really try to give all of the girls individual attention they deserve, but especially Bridget. This morning, she jumped at the chance to go grocery shopping with me, and reminded me that it would be just like our little
date a couple months ago. She wanted to sit in the baby seat of the grocery cart, and of course, she was accessorized to the max in a princess crown, clip-on earrings and a huge jeweled necklace. She glowed when people passed us and called her a princess.
I'm hoping this freckly princess remembers us when she's on Broadway someday!
