Mirror Kisses

There will come a time in her life when she doesn’t like her hair. It will be too straight or too curly.  She’ll think she’s too fat. Or too skinny. She’ll believe her smile is too big or her eyes are too small. She’ll wish she were taller. Shorter. Bigger, smaller. She’ll have zits which she’ll curse. She’ll believe her freckles are ugly. She’ll wish she had longer eyelashes or bigger feet. She’ll want a smaller stomach and bigger boobs. She’ll want to be stronger.  She’ll think she needs to be prettier. She’ll want to look like someone else. She’ll try to look like someone else.

I’ve been there.  And she’ll get there too. Despite my every grasping effort to stop her from coming to that time in her life, I know, she’ll get there. Despite whispering in her ear repeatedly how perfect I think she is. Despite calling her “pretty” and “cutie” and “beautiful” all the live long days. Despite telling her how much I love her curly hair, small feet and big smile. Despite it all, the above will be our reality. Someday.

Until then, I’m  basking in this:

Her unabashed love for herself.   A nightly routine of kissing herself in our mirror for upwards of fifteen minutes at a time. If I could pocket this self-love and save it for that time, I would. In a heartbeat.

I’ll always think she’s beautiful, cute and pretty. I’ll always think she’s perfect. Unfortunately, inevitably, someday, she won’t.  On that day, I’ll bring her back to this picture and remind her to give  herself a few kisses in the mirror every now and then.

Hurry, Hurry Drive the Fire truck 2013

Tyson has been relatively obsessed with fire/fire stations/fire trucks for the last three months.

I trace the obsession to that time when we unwisely decided to drive him to a recently put out house fire. Bad idea.

While the fire trucks with extended ladders and large hoses were fascinating, he quickly realized that a house burnt down. A HOUSE! The next week was spent answering an infinite amount of questions.

Where did the fire come from?

What about the people?

What about the dogs?

Do they get to go back to that house?

Will our car light on fire?

Is that fire still burning?

Did the hoses get the people wet?

Times one million more. You get the point.

In an attempt to erase our bad parenting decision, we attended this year’s Fire Station Open House a few weekends ago. We went last year when Tyson liked fires because he knew the song, “Hurry, Hurry Drive the Fire truck.” So, yeah……

The Open House was great. Tyson and Mila both “drove” a fire truck.

Tyson got to spray the hose with a REAL firefighter. Emphasis on the real. He was impressed.  

We watched a grease fire being put out. I crossed my fingers that this wasn’t going to be a setback in our personal fire therapy session.

And there was a bounce house.

End result? He now only wants to know if ALL firehouses have a bounce house. Oh, and, he wants to be a fire TRUCK when he grows up. Probably because he thinks he can jump in the bounce house all day long.

Mission Accomplished??