The younger fruit of my loins has reached the milestone of 3 years old today. Mostly, she made it because she’s entertaining. And because it’s illegal to sell her. And because her antics give me subjects about which to write. And because I’m crazy about her, really, even with all her issues and little psychoses.

She’s got the soul of Napoleon, the stubbornness of a Capricorn, the temper of a tornado, mixed in with a fair bit of surprising sweetness. She has been absolutely Laurel from day one, and she has never strayed from that course. She is hell bent on bending the world to her will or else spouting tears at the injustice suffered by people her age and size.

Tomorrow is her first day of school. I have warned her teachers of her temperament. I have sized up the other toddlers in the room. I’m a little nervous for them. I’ve requested that she be allowed to do art projects, to have access to markers and other art supplies. The baby dolls and trucks will not occupy her for long. I hope they do her bidding, I really do.

The teachers have let me know of their usual methodologies for dealing with others her age. I’ve been told that children her age don’t understand most of what they tell them or have the ability to communicate their wants and needs or understand what it means to be sorry. I am sending Laurel to school tomorrow with some tips for these people. I’m hoping they don’t just brush me off as some overly concerned parent of a pampered child. Their lives will be hell if they don’t try to make their requests of her reasonable, if they don’t negotiate with her. If they try to take shortcuts instead of using reason and explication as to why she should do something that is required.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s not a monster. Laurel does her thing, usually with two fingers in her mouth (her comfort strategy). She is snuggly (with people she has chosen with great care). She is vivacious and commanding (once she feels comfortable). She has a hunger for information and for answers that cannot be thwarted. She is hilarious. She has a great sense of humor. But to get to those little nuggets of wondrous Laurel, you have to earn her trust, be worthy of her notice, explain everything as you would to a 5-year-old.

My baby, my 3-year-old, is going to school. I’ll miss her for those 6 hours that she’ll be away from me per week. And I feel a little guilty, because although I’ll miss her, I’ll be footloose and baby-free for the first time in 5 years! I’ll be the lady in Starbucks sucking down the huge mocha latte, rocking out to U2 and Greenday with earbuds in her ears while she plugs away happily at her laptop. WOOOHOOOOO!!!

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