Every now and then my kids do something that reminds me that I can stop with all the hand wringing about their gentle psyches and fretting about all the oppressive things this mean old world is going to do to them. In those moments, I simply revel in their vitality and f*cking randomness. And I know, for a few seconds, that every damn little thing is gonna be alright.
When my daughter wakes up from a nap and insists on putting on her filthy soccer uniform that she ran around in for three hours this morning (in 90-degree heat) and pairs it with her killer pink boots, you may see a combination of middle American bad fashion sense and poor mothering, But, I have the sense that she’s gonna end up on her feet no matter what happens, and then she will kick you in the face with her plastic cowboy boots from Old Navy. Then, she’s gonna kick through the glass ceiling and rule the planet. And I am basically ok with that.
Further, this weekend Sadie received her first Barbie-esque doll as a present from her beloved grandparents. Did I worry about her getting a doll with voluptuous plastic boobs and unrealistic proportions? Yes. And everyone, and I mean EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON. told me to lighten the f*ck up. So, I put on my big girl pants that I wear when I have to do hard stuff like change my attitude or LET GO OF CONTROL, and I let Sadie enjoy her new doll.
For 48 hours this doll was Sadie’s beloved treasure– Sadie ate breakfast with her, played with her, and slept with her. She showed me her tiara about 68 times. Then, Sadie surprised me, as only Sadie can, by falling in love with a vintage video camera (from 1989) that Jeff found in the
trash alley. If Sadie’s amorous feelings towards Ariel were puppy love, then her feelings for this video camera were straight out of The Thorn Birds. (God, remember when that first aired? I had to beg my Baptist grandmother to turn off Pat Robertson and let me watch this Australian priest screw his young lover. When I sold her on that idea, I knew I could become a lawyer.)
Anyway, suddenly, Sadie was all “Ariel who? Where the f*ck is my camera? If Simon is touching my camera I. Will. Cut. Him.” Now, guess what Sadie sleeps with? It rhymes with “lamera” and “damera,” and she’s so hopelessly enamored with this second-hand camera that is as big as her head (sans hair) and almost as heavy as her head (with hair). And when Sadie insists on wearing her pajamas to the park so she can take pictures with her new camera, I say hell yes, then I grab myself a cold popsicle and sit back and watch her soar.