A few weeks ago we met some friends at our favorite sprinkler park. I’m not sure if it’s because we were there longer than usual, or if the sun was somehow closer to the Earth that day, but my daughter ended up with a fantastic sunburn. I was pretty angry with myself for not being more careful about reapplying the sunscreen and I referred to myself as a bad mommy. I was joking, but I guess all jokes have that grain (or barrel of grains) of truth in them and she picked up on that.
“Mommy,” she told me, “You won’t allow me to talk bad about myself, so please don’t talk bad about you.”
And how could I argue with that wisdom?
She has always had a strong mind of her own, but I see more and more how receptive she is to hearing my thoughts on things. Not only does she listen, but she applies it to her own world in ways that surprise me for a girl so young.
Recently, she has also been embracing her inner feminist. She decries all Disneyesque princesses and tries very hard to not like pink (although she is visibly torn). The whole thing is terribly cute, but my goodness it makes me proud of her.
I’m blessed to have her in my life. I can see already how much I have to learn from her, how much I already have.