“You’ve got a handful there.”
“She knows what she wants.”
“Someone’s about to get in trouble.”
“That girl has some lungs!”
“I bet you’re exhausted.”
The truth is, Evy, some days I am exhausted.
When you stubbornly purse your lips and stomp your foot, or when you mischievously hide under a clothes rack at Target, or when you expand your big lungs and make your voice reverberate throughout the store.
In these moments—basically, when you’re being a toot—it’s hard to be patient. But sometimes (maybe on days when I’m more rested), at the height of our stand off, I see your determined spirit, and I’m so proud.
Yes, Evy, I swell with pride while you stand there—feet planted, hands on hips, lip pursed—in utter defiance of your mama.
And when other mothers at Target or the swimming pool give me that side glance that says get your child under control, I want to turn to them and proclaim:
“Look at her strength, isn’t it wonderful? See how she puts up a fight, how she doesn’t back down easily … now that’s a girl who will stand for something!”
It is my job to help you navigate that strength, guide it away from selfish indulgence and towards goodness and compassion.
What an honor!
So Evy, I think I can handle a toot for a few years, because I know I’ll have a strong girl for life.