So I am a day behind and a dollar short but here it is.
On Easter Sunday, my daughter was playing quietly in her room and came out an hour or so later, minus some key pieces of hair. She looked like a very bad advertisement for Flowbee.
And I have to tell you I was not at all sure what to do about this. Because a very big part of my wanted to laugh. A VERY BIG PART.
But an equally large part of me knew that this was in fact a bad bad thing that she had done and that she did not quite understand how bad but she did understand that she had done something wrong. There were a couple of signs that she knew she had done something wrong:
1. She hid the hair. Inside a box. At the bottom of her trash can.
2. She hid the scissors. Under her bed.
3. When I walked into her room she shoved her thumb in my face to show me that she had a cut. From the scissors she used to cut her hair.
4. When I reached forward to touch her hair to confirm that it was indeed GONE, she started to cry.
5. When I started to talk to her about how upset I was about her hair, she asked the following question:
“So are you GLAD I have a cut on my finger?!?!”
And that’s when I started to suspect.
And later when I told her I was still angry with her she responded by telling me about how she had comforted her brother when he had hurt himself earlier that day.
And. Later still when her father told her he was still not speaking to her, she told her brother to tell her father about how she had comforted him earlier that day!
And then I just about died because I realized a sad but blatant truth.
My daughter is smarter than I am. Smarter than I was at that age, certainly. But she is also more manipulative and, dare I say, conniving than I have ever been.
Later in the day when both her father and I had “the talk” with her and given her hugs she told us she wanted to put a show on for us. I asked her why. Why did she want to put on a show for us.
And our eyes met. And I KNEW. Knew that this was a deliberate attempt to get us to smile, be happy and tell her how wonderful she is.
And you might think I am being paranoid. You might think that 5 year olds are simply not that complex.
But you would be wrong.
And the realization that I have to be aware of this level of complexity and help to ensure that it is an asset and now a flaw, was my good mommy moment.
Because she is wonderful, beautiful and smart as hell. And we need to be prepared.