Sunday, August 29, 2010

Help Me Be the Person My Daughter Thinks I Am

At the end of today, I'm pooped.  It's been a busy week.  Last week, we started some scheduled homeschooling time and had harvesting to do in the garden.  After playing at church early this morning, making Sunday lunch, freezing green beans and corn, and cleaning up that unholy mess, I let my parenting go on auto-pilot this evening.  We let CB watch a movie and I vegged out online for a while and finished a fiction book. Little H just hung out with me for most of the day, blessing me with his sweetness.

I got up early this morning to get ready to go to church.  As I finished getting dressed and putting on some dressy shoes, CB walked in and stared at my shoes.  Right away she asked me, "Why are you wearing those shoes?"  (Now, it must be noted that CB is very intrigued by high heels, jewelry, perfume, and all things accessory.  Quite honestly, I'm not sure how such a fancy girl came to be in this family.)  I explained that I was going to church while she and H stayed home with Dad.

She turned and ran into her room, inspired to start the day with style.  Out she came, in a tank top (her "bra"), skirt, high heels, and necklace.  She asked me to give her the play earrings and to spray her with some perfume.  She was looking pretty good for 7:00 a.m on a Sunday, five minutes out of bed.

On our way up the stairs, CB asked me: "Mom, do you know why I got so dressed up? Because I want to be just like you."  Oh boy...

I've seen the shirts and bumper stickers that say Help Me Be the Person My Dog Thinks I Am.   My mantra is similar.  I've got a tall order to live up to each day.  And apparently, she wants me to do it in heels. :)

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