Her brother and sister were calling her to come play with them.

I can’t! I have laundry to do! She called back.

Maggie is a unique 3-year-old in that she’s my first kid to make me question whether or not I actually have the ability – nay, sanity – to raise children. Yes, she’s one of the cutest people ever but she’s also stubborn and dramatic and one day she took all my parenting knowledge and flushed it down the toilet while I baked her cookies. She’s the child that humbled me.

If you ask her how she got a bruise or a scratch she’ll often make up dramatic stories about what happened to her. A bully punched her. A dinosaur bit her. Or her go-to answer – Jesse did it. (note here – Jesse is the most mild mannered child in the family.)

She’s confident that she can do anything, even while she is failing at it. She can draw a straight line. She can read. She can pick out random spices, extracts, and food colorings from the lazy suzan and create a beautiful and delicious dessert.
And the blue violin and shredded bow… if you listen to Lucy play you will hear all this squeaking but I don’t squeak when I play. All while Kait and I sit here listening with our eyes twitching.

This unique (to us) personality of hers didn’t come without its perks though.  She is the lovey-est child. Big, elaborate hugs around the neck that make a person feel so valued…  That’s what you can expect from Maggie.

And she loves to do the laundry.

Story time.

Yesterday she gathered up the dirty laundry basket from the room that she shares with Lucy, along with the sheets she had stripped from her bed on her own, and dumped them on the laundry room floor. Then she got to work moving laundry so she could wash her load.
She did not want help. I’ll do it myself, is what she said every time I asked if she needed help.

I’ve had her help me before and because she learns fast she already knew the proper buttons to push to start the towels drying and she said them out loud as she mashed each button. Power. My cycle. Start.

When she got to the point of adding detergent she animatedly called me in to lift her up. I was reminded of how quickly she grasps things because she needed no help with the process itself and when her laundry was washed she suddenly shouted, Oh! My laundry!, and moved everything again.   

And if that wasn’t cool enough, at some point I had brought my hamper into the laundry room and after she had gotten the dryer rolling she actually put all my clothes in the washer and hollered for me to once again lift her up because she needed to put detergent in.

Now, if only she enjoyed folding it and putting it all away…

I guess that is unrealistic because nobody likes that.

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Filed under: Maggie

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