Reasoning It Out

Sadie turns four on Sunday. I'm not usually one to get all sentimental about birthdays, but there's a part of me that would like to freeze Sadie at 3 forever. She is my last baby (at least as far as I know at this point but really, more kids are highly, highly unlikely). I like that she is small enough to carry. I know I carry her far more than I did Ella at this age (because, of course, I had a toddler Sadie to carry instead). I don't care. She weighs less than 30 pounds, and I like having her in my arms.

Anyhow, we do this nightly bedtime routine where I sing "Goodnight, Sweetheart" to each girl while tickling her. The tickling was only added in recently, but I like ending our day together with laughter.

On Tuesday night, after the giggles, I told Sadie she isn't allowed to grow up. This is what followed:

S: But I am growing. I'm turning four soon.

M: Nope. You are not allowed to get any bigger.

S: Remember how you said you want to plan my wedding for me? Well, you can't do that if you don't let me grow up. I can't get married until I'm a grown-up, so you have to let me get bigger.

Dammit! Who taught this child to think logically? I know it wasn't me!