A couple of weeks ago I sat down with Hadley's preschool teacher for a parent teacher conference. At the risk of sounding like an obnoxiously prideful parent, Hadley's doing awesome.
Hadley: Tinkerbell? Will you help Cinderella, Bella, and Snow White get to the ball?
Hadley: We need your help. Cinderella, Bella, and Snow White need pixie dust to get to the ball. Do you have pixie dust?
Tinkerbell: Yea, I have pixie dust.
Hadley: OK, can you share some with the princesses so they can get to the ball?
Tinkerbell: Well, I'd love to but I can't.
Hadley: Why not?
Tinkerbell: Because I live in a different story.
And that was the end of that.
Here's what happened today:
Hadley (who's in the bathroom): Mom!!!!!! I'm doooooonnnne!
I walk into the bathroom to find Hadley facing the opposite direction that society expects one to sit when one sits on a toilet.
Me: OH, HADLEY! What are you doing?
Hadley: I'm sitting this way.
Hadley: Why not?
Me: Hadley, you can never, ever sit like that.
Hadley: Why? What will happen?
Me (after a long pause): I don't know. Just don't ever sit like that again.
It's a wonder I haven't been on any talk shows to share my outstanding parenting skills, folks.
You know what though? I do so enjoy Hadley's company. From the moment she was born, she's shown me that there is this other way to see the world, and while I struggle to keep up with her, I'm thankful she wants me to come along for the ride. The other day when I picked her up from preschool she told me that one of the teachers who put her in the car called her "Holly."
I said, "That's OK, people used to call me by the wrong name all the time."
"They did that when you were a little girl?"
"I should've been there to help you."
That would've been nice, Hadley. That would've been nice.