Sammie is trying to find her identity. She came to visit this weekend, and went to the grocery store with me. On the way back to the house, I told her she was my special girl. She replied that she wasn’t special. I told her yes you are, you are very special to me, you are my Sammie Girl. She said, “I am not Sammie, I am Samantha Daniel.”
Daniel means Danielle, her name is Samantha Danielle Yates, but she hasn’t gotten a grip on the pronunciation yet.
She only wants to wear dresses. No shorts or pants, only dresses. And sparkly shoes, or pretty sandals.
We had a talk about her name. Her great-grandmother had given her a new doll this weekend, and she was having trouble picking a name for her. I asked her if she knew how her mommy and daddy had chosen her name, and she said she did not.
So I told her how they had struggled over picking a name for their new baby while she was growing inside mommy. They knew they were going to have a girl, and just could not decide on a name. So I told her daddy to ask the baby who was inside mommy to tell him what her name was, and to then put his ear on mommy’s belly and listen to what the baby said. So he did that, and the baby said “My name is Samantha”.
Sammie’s face lit up and she said “That was me?” And I said, ” Yes that was you sweetie!”.
Then I said, “Why don’t you ask this doll what her name is, then you won’t have to try to hard to pick a name for her.” Samantha looked at the pretty doll with pink streaks in her hair and said “What is your name?” Then she said in a soft but high-pitched voice ” My name is Shorty!”
She looked at me with this big smile on her face, and I smiled back at her. I said ” See that? Her name is Shorty, and that is what we will call her”. Problem solved.
I find it interesting how Samantha believes almost everything I tell her, then finds her own way to make it true. Somehow she knew that this doll was not as real as a baby human, so it would not really answer her. She somehow tuned in to what she really wanted the name to be and then pretended that the doll was answering her question.
She isn’t 3 years old anymore, she is 3 1/2 and there is a big difference!
She spent a lot of energy letting me know that she wasn’t mine, that she belongs to her mother, that she only sleeps with her mother, that she only cuddles with her mother. She says this to anyone who tries to claim her or cuddle her. Even her dad.
But, when night came, she happily climbed into my bed and when we were done reading and talking and eating a bedtime snack and finally turned out the light, she rolled herself right up next to me and stayed there all night.
Yep, she is mine, my own grand-daughter and she knows this is true, and I will treasure every cuddle I can get out of her!