Girl Mom

This is how my morning started:

"I want to wear a dress."  She stared up at me with large blue eyes.

I sighed because I already had an outfit picked out for her, now rejected, and I still had three other kids and two lunches to get ready in about 33 minutes.  "How about this one?"  I held up a dress with yellow flowers on it.

"No."  A firm shake of the head, a mulish expression, and a cross of her arms.

"This one?" I asked, holding up another dress.

 "No. I want a pink dress."

Ten minutes and eight dresses later, we had a winner.

And then:

"Two ponytails.  Not one."

"No, not those shoes.  I want these shoes."  "

"And a hat."

And that's how Katherine ended up going to Walmart dressed like this:

Not church or a wedding.

To Walmart.

I'm fairly new at this girl mom stuff and, even though she's only been around for a little over two and a half years, the difference between Katherine and our three boys is vast.  Wide.  Almost immeasurable.  For instance, every morning I throw clothes at our boys (almost 10. 8 and 6) and they put them on.  They could care less what color they are, if they match or have stupid flowers on them (okay, they might care if they had flowers on them).  Half the time, I can't even get them to wear socks and find their shoes, let alone have a favorite pair.

Katherine has opinions. She has opinions about everything and she has no problem making them known.  Loudly.  With feeling. And when she throws a temper tantrum . . . she really commits.

Because she came after three boys, I like to say she's is 100% princess and 100% tomboy.  She is, by far, the meanest, most demanding, and stubborn of all my children and, remember, two of them have autism. You think I'm kidding but I'm not.  She has attitude for miles and miles.  Every other week, she gets herself in trouble at the church nursery.  Sometimes it's for being too rough with a younger child and sometimes it's for flat out refusing to follow directions.  She bosses her brothers around and I think they're all a little scared of her.

My husband says she exactly like me.

It doesn't help that she looks a little like an angel. Blonde, blonde hair, big blue eyes, a sweet dimpled smile.  Poor people.  They never see her coming. I doubt we'll ever had to worry too much about her and boys; she's just as likely to kick them as she is to date them.

Despite all that, I can't help but think that I now have a lifelong friend. Not only is she smart and determined, but we share some common interests. For example, the other day, Katherine watched me as I put the dishes away.  I went to put a wooden spoon in the jar by the stove and this happened:

"Mommy, no!"

I stopped.  "What's wrong?"

She pointed to the wooded spoon in my hand and said, "That's for singing."

I looked at the spoon.  "Well, it's really for cooking with, to stir things."

She shook her head.  "For singing."

She's not really wrong.  We have been known to dance around the kitchen and sing into cooking utensils on occasion (or ten).  So I shrugged and nodded.  "You're right.  What was I thinking?"

Then I forgot about putting the dishes away and she and I sang a lot of Taylor Swift songs into wooden spoons. Who else is going to do that with me?
 
Yes, this being a girl mom makes me nervous sometimes.  I know little girls look up to their moms and I want to be the kind of woman she wouldn't mind being like.  That's daunting and, more than anything, it makes me want to be a better woman, wife, and mom. 

All in all, I'm completely in love with and fascinated by this little strong-willed girl.  I want her to grow up strong and not afraid to share her opinion.  I want her to have all the self-confidence I lack and I don't want her to be limited in anything she decides to do. I want her to know it's okay to like dolls and mud (preferably not dolls in mud).  And I want her to love God and make wise choices. Her life is full of infinite possibilities and I want her to explore them all and feel safe and confident that she will always, always have a safe place to land with me. 

Wild Child

Right now, she and I are outnumbered in our house.  Boys-4, Girls-2.  But she's already learned we need to stick together. The other day, my husband and I were having a disagreement about something silly and he called Katherine over.

"Katherine, go tell your mom to be quiet," he, half-jokingly, told her.

"No," she said.

"No? Why not?"

She looked at him and said, "Because Mommy is always right."

See?  We are going to be best friends for life.