Daisy was never fond of riding in the car when she was a baby. She'd scream and scream and scream, even if we were just zipping over to pick the boys up from school or taking a quick trip to the store. It just about brought me to my wits' end. I dreaded going anywhere with her. And then one day, when she was 14 or 15 months old, we turned her car seat around to face forwards. I buckled her in. There was silence. And then, as I started to drive, the sound of Daisy's little baby voice going: "Wheeeee! Wheeeee! Wheeee! Wheeee!"
She "wheeee"d all the way to school and back, and she never cried in the car again.
And that's Daisy. Wants to see what's going on and be a part of things—and then, whatever it is, she LOVES it. She loves helping me cook, loves riding her bike with the big boys, loves dancing and singing with the little girls, loves tending Teddy, loves reading, loves learning. If someone else in the family has an obsession, she wants to join in: "Sebby, was that a 767? That's my favorite plane!" "Look Abe; I think I saw a Tesla Model S!" She's smart and talkative and always ready with an opinion. She's a great little companion who, when just she and I get in the car to go somewhere together, sighs happily: "O-KAY! Now! What shall we TALK about?!" She's also likely to declare, of an evening, that "Mommy, what I really feel like doing, is SNUGGLING." She talks a lot about what she'll do when she's grown and has babies of her own—always including lots of visits to me. I can only hope! Because I hate to think of living for any amount of time without my little Daisy girl.
(See also: Daisy at four)