The nugget in her natural state.
A few days ago before napping together, my bitty girl was telling me about her blankie, Night-Night. She told me Night-Night was a girl. I asked how she knew Night-Night was a girl. She paused, then responded "I don't know. I wiw ask her. Night-Night, are you a girl?" Night-Night (in a high pitched version of my daughter's voice) answered "Yes, I a girl." She then turned to me and said "She's a girl. She said so." We should respect the way others define themselves. If you expect someone to take you at your word and honor it, whether it is with a declaration of faith or profession or fandom or any socially defined role, you should do the same for others.
2. Cool is not really cool. You do you.
I once asked my daughter if she was cool. She promptly replied, "No, I just funny." When I asked if it was better to be funny or be cool, she took no time in shouting "Funny!" I have tried to teach her about different ways of describing personality over time to improve her vocabulary and emotional intelligence in identifying and evaluating. But one of my far and away favorite things about her is her conviction about not being labeled. When I ask if she is a superhero, a princess, a helper, a baby, a big girl, a comedian, a maniac, or any number of other roles, she typically answers, "No, I just Skyla." She doesn't claim to be anything other than herself, and she doesn't feel bad about defining herself just as she is. And to me, that's cooler than cool.
3. Don't take yourself too seriously.
As anyone who has spent time with small children knows, kids don't have a filter. They call it like they see it. I am a recovering perfectionist having spent much of my life fretting over whether people liked me or not, whether I was good enough, whether I was the best, hung up on ever real and perceived imperfection. With a kiddo, that's out the window. "Mommy can I blow dry your hair? You have crazies." "Mommy, you have a BIG belly!" "Mommy you're squishy." "Mommy stop singing. STAHP." "Mommy is bad at throwing." Ouch. And these are within the past two days. It's a pretty perpetual reality check. But I also get to see her creating magical spaces in a diaper and rain boots, singing at the top of her lungs and making up tunes with zip for vocal control (my husband and I were both trained singers and musicians, so it's pretty hilarious), oohing and ahing over how beautiful she looks in her "pretties" (play jewelry) and hand-picked ensembles when nothing matches and her hair is a rat's nest... And you know what? I don't think less of her. I think her quirks are the best. She doesn't see failings, she just takes every little thing in stride. Good, bad, and ugly. I want to be more like her.
4. Anti-bullying is the hero-maker.
When teaching a three-year-old about social issues and matters that will come up sooner rather than later in their lives, you must be able to communicate on their level. Basically, it has to be simple. Accessible. I was reading one of my daughter's favorite books to her ("A is for Activist"), and we got to the letter X which was Malcom X. When she asked me who he was, my mind flashed with all the complex and nuanced sociopolitical events and statements that dictated his public persona and personal conviction and thought how in the world was I going to convey that to a three-year-old? So I started slowly, and it finally dawned on me: he stood up to bullies and inspired others to stand up to bullies too. Through Black History Month, Hispanic American Heritage Month, and Women's History Month as promos cropped up to teach young ones about influential individuals in our history, I found this theme resonated over and over. The act of standing up against a bully, whether on a personal or systemic level, is an act of courage and heroism. My daughter told me quite earnestly she thinks Malcom X is a superhero and lists him among The Avengers since they help people too.
5. Magic is real.
Recently, after sharing a fun and imaginative activity I want to do to inspire my daughter's creativity, a good friend asked me what in the world my daughter was going to do when she was grown up and moves out. With all the magic I create for her, my friend told me, if she were my daughter she'd never leave. While it was a truly rewarding sentiment to share, my goal is not to create an alternate plane of existence for my little girl. My goal is to remind her that magic is real. She taught me that. From in infancy staring in awe at a ceiling fan in motion to delighting at finding items for the fairy house we built to creating "pictures" by shaping the foods she eats to her sincere inclusion of unicorns and witches and fairies and princesses and talking ponies and friendly monsters side by side real animals and people, she has shown me the world is what we believe it to be and we see what we look for. If we believe in magic we can find it. This doesn't mean we should live in a fantasy world-- reality must be acknowledged and treated as such. But there are so many incredibly, fearfully wonderful things to see and experience if we know how to look.
6. Patience is a virtue, and it is really, really important.
While I have been writing this post, I have had an overly-tired three-year-old (out of town birthday party today with no nap) asking me to play, requesting voice overs for dialogue between Thor and Iron Man, climbing on me, rolling in my lap, offering me snacks, making noise to make noise, lifting my hair up to tell me secrets with no decrease in volume, making "toot sounds," and grabbing my hands to play "crazy cakes" (her own special version of patty cakes involving manic and chaotic flailing of hands together). And yet, I have not fussed. If she has done something inappropriate ("Sweetheart, hands out of your mouth. That's gross. You know better."), I address it calmly and move on. I do the voices. I dole out kisses and hugs. I let her climb and roll insofar as I can keep my computer out of the line of fire. And I keep pressing forward and writing. She is not doing these things to annoy me or frustrate me. She doesn't give a flying rat's ass about my blog. She doesn't know what a blog is. She just loves me. She wants my attention. She wants to show affection and play. I don't ever want her to think I am too busy for her. I may have to keep it succinct at times, but she is too valuable to me to ignore (even for all of you lovely readers!).
I continue to learn more from her every day. This post only scratches the surface. Pay attention to the children in your life. There is so much to learn, and your life will be all the richer for it.
"Mommy, I a LUNATRIX!"
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