Fifty-Four Months

Dear Peeper,
You are fifty-four months - four-and-a-half years - old today!

A quick update on your cough / inhaler situation. When we went back to the doctor, he confirmed the diagnosis of cough-variant asthma and said to just use the inhaler when it starts back up, if you've been sick or something. He expected you'd need it two or three times a year. Well, as it turns out, you were four days into a cold and started coughing on the way home. We used the inhaler for a few more days and you were still cranky, but it was hard to tell what was what, because you'd been cranky about being sick in between.

Then you were fine for a couple of weeks, and started with the snot again last week, so we did two days of inhaler and stopped when you got cranky again.

Not that you're always Susie Sunshine without it, but it does seem to be having some sort of effect on your mood, so we're going to avoid it as much as necessary, and when we go back to the doctor, I'm going to ask if there's a different medication we can try next time.

So, the issue is sort of resolved?

Or, maybe, you're just being four and a half. You really do seem a lot happier without the inhaler, but you have been pulling some pretty good freak-outs even without it. We are trying to approach them with sympathy and empathy but, yeah, sometimes that gets a little hard to do. I hope we're not screwing you up too badly.

I'm also hoping that once we get through this next month and you and I are both on summer vacation, things will settle down a bit and we will have more together-time and more downtime and we can all chill out a bit.

In the meantime, let's take a look at what you've had to say this month:

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Tomato, tomahto, potato, potahto, let's piss the whole thing off.
Why are you laughing when I say "piss the whole thing off?"

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While I was taking a little quicky nap, you decided to go play in the backyard, and somehow locked the door behind you on her way out? I'm pretty sure you weren't calling me for long before I heard you. You did get a stern talking-to about going out without permission.

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You had two mint M&Ms left from what the babysitter brought, and you said you wanted to share them with me. I told you "There are only two, you can have them," but you insisted. When getting them out of the package, I dropped one, so I told you, "Here, this is the only one, you have it." Again you insisted that I take it. I explained, "That's the only one. If I eat it you won't have any," and you said, "That's what friends are for!"

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You were pretending to be the Big Bad Wolf. You told me that she has a pig plant. "And you know what's going to grow on it? Pigs. I'm gonna pick 'em and eat 'em."

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Two nights in a row, you woke us up at 3 am, freaking out about a toy that you felt should be in your bed. The first time, I had to take the mattress off to find the Bert thermometer that had fallen between it and the wall. At least the second night I only had to track down a panda in the kitchen.

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Mama: Peeper, where are my glasses?
Peeper: They're in the sunroom, on the trampoline.
Well of course.

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Arrr! Sugary timbers!

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While outside in just panties, you started doing a jig.
Mama: Do you need to pee-pee? It looks like you're pee-pee dance.
Peeper: (Bending over into a downward dog position): No, I'm just dancing to get my body stronger. That's just a bear dance. (tinkle tinkle tinkle) Yes, I'm pee-peeing.

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I'm starting to wonder how often the neighbors will have to see you playing outside in the hose and mud in her underwear and sub-60-degree weather before they file some sort of report on us.

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Happy half-birthday, big girl. We love you!

Love,
Mama