This weekend my daughter announced, “I need a backpack for school, Mommy. I don’t need the diaper bag anymore. I don’t even wear diapers.”
And thank god for that. There were days last fall when I thought this kid would never be potty trained.
And I have to admit I knew the backpack request would be coming. One little girl at “school” has a Nemo purse, and my daughter certainly wants one of those. Another lucky child has a Pretty Pony toothbrush, and when mine saw one at the store she got so excited I thought she was having a seizure of some sort.
Backpack shopping. Not the most exciting adventure for Mom, but what the heck. I figured I’d have to spend a gazillion dollars on a fancy backpack with Dora and buckles and pockets and traps galore. But my little miss chose a non-character, non-complicated adorable little backpack from the children’s gardening area.
It was a proud Mommy moment.
My husband accused me of setting up her choice by not showing her the Dora backpacks, but he was wrong. We looked at all the choices, and I have a beautiful new laptop bag that cost a gazillion dollars to prove it. My girl stuck to her original decision, and nothing but a Spiderman backpack that comes with a Spiderman watch could change her mind. I diplomatically reminded her she has a Barbie watch (complete with compass!) at home that she already doesn’t wear.
She found that Barbie watch when we got home, put it on, and said, “Come on, Mommy, let’s go get lost in the woods!”
Man, I love this kid.
As we emptied the old and very-well used diaper bag, I asked her what she needs in her backpack for school.
“Pants and panties and socks, in case I have an accident.”
“Do you ever have accidents at school?” I asked.
“No. But someday I might. And I need my mittens and my hat because sometimes when it warms up we go outside. That’s all, Mommy. See? My little backpack is just big enough. But it’s little so I can carry it on my back.”
She’s growing up so fast sometimes it stuns me. I love her use of language; “Daddy’s going to be so impressed, is he?” and, “I’m a big kid now, am I?”
“Mommy, you love me truly madly deeply, andGrandma loves me sooo much, and Daddy loves me to ift… inty… what’s that word?”
“Infinity?”
“Yes, Daddy loves me that.”
Sometimes I remember how peaceful my life was before having a child. But sometimes I also recall that peaceful was pretty darn boring.
No comments:
Post a Comment