Life Is But A Drink

Oh, hi.  Yes, it’s so nice to meet you.  Lovely, in fact. And thank you for letting me know that you think my daughter is smart and well-behaved.  I appreciate that.

However, can I give you some advice?  Just a little minor suggestion from one woman to another?

You see those strawberries over there on the platter?  Yes, the ones that are being used for decoration?  Yes, yes, those right there.

Well, when I tell my daughter that she can’t have one, it’s probably best that you not pull that whole “Oh, it’s just a strawberry.  She can have one” thing to me.  IN FRONT of my daughter.

Because you know why?

Because I’m her mom.  And because I said she couldn’t have one.   And now that I’ve said it, there is no way I am letting her have a strawberry.  Not a snowball’s chance in Hell.

And, yes, I realize it’s “just a strawberry”.  That’s not the point.

The point is that I said no.  And the point is that, as someone who is not her mom, you need to respect my decision.  And not challenge me.  Especially not in front of my daughter who is just barely keeping it together because I just told her she couldn’t have a strawberry.  This is a delicate balance here, and you are about to throw it all sorts of out of whack.

And the point is that the smart and well-behaved daughter that you just complimented didn’t come for free.  It took a lot of hard work.  It took teaching her that she couldn’t always have everything she wanted when she wanted it.  And it took teaching her that, when mom said something, she meant it and she wasn’t going to change her mind.  And it took denying her a strawberry every once in awhile.  Especially when she didn’t need one, and just wanted one because it was there.  For decoration, by the way.

I hope you don’t take offense to me saying this.  You’re not the first person to do this, and I’m sure you’re not going to be the last.  But I just thought I’d draw it to your attention in the hope that will you check yourself the next time you try to interfere in someone else’s parenting moment.

So, yes, it was lovely to meet you.  Have a great evening.  See you soon.

My daughter brought this home from preschool the other day.

Or, at least, I think she did.  I found it sitting on the kitchen counter when I got home from work.  I’m figuring it has something to do with Mother’s Day and her computer class (the fact that there is a computer class in preschool still makes me shake my head a little in disbelief…)

I guess it doesn’t take as much as I thought it did to be special.  Belting out a few tunes in the car on the way to preschool or while I’m cooking dinner seems to have done the trick.  Check, please.  This parenting thing = piece o’ cake.

The great irony in all of this is that I’m not even the professional singer in the family.   Take that, honey.

{Of course, I added the “classified” thing-y.  That’s where her name was (duh!), but I don’t particularly like blasting her name – or my son’s name – all over this here Internet.  Creepy people and all.)

Recently, my heart has been exploding with love for this little one.  She has such an infectious and sassy personality and a heart of gold.  I want to be just like her when I grow up.

We had a mother-daughter date last night.  We went to dinner, and then we came home and painted our nails and watched Doc McStuffins.  She ate it all up with a spoon.

And so did I.