I am the mom, so honestly I should be the one teaching my daughter things. And I do. Like when I taught her to look both ways before she crosses the street, to keep her feet off the table when we are eating, or to spray the perfume in the air and walk through it. However, there are a few things I could learn from her. A few of them make me proud…and a couple that completely bewilder me.
Here are 5 things I could learn from my seven-year-old daughter.
Never wear anything that’s uncomfortable.
My daughter puts together ensembles that run the gamut from classy to clown suit on any given morning. The other day her sartorial statement included a sundress and earmuffs. While it may seem that she lacks a discerning eye and taste by my description, I can assure you this is not the case; she has exacting standards. My daughter will not wear anything that is itchy/tight/hot/painful. I bought her a super cute T-shirt with a sparkly purse on the front of it a couple of years ago. I knew she would like it because it featured two of her favorite things: sequins and accessories (a double whammy in that it was a sequined accessory!). She was delighted when she saw it, but her delight devolved to disdain when she wore it. Apparently the applique was itchy, so the shirt was a no-go. As a person who has worn clothes that itch, are too tight, and that caused numbness or bleeding, this is a lesson I should heed.
Poop anywhere.
It doesn’t matter if we are in a port-o-potty at a parade route or a church bathroom in a wine country town; if my daughter has to go, she goes. Talk to her during? No problem. Hear an impatient fellow-patron knocking on the door? Sure. Wrong time of day? What’s that? None of these are an impediment to her activity. I think this might be her superpower.
You can never have too many best friends.
I grew up with a definite sense that a best friend was an item one had in the singular. You might have a lot of good friends, but there was only one best friend. My daughter does not share my view on this issue. If you ask her who her best friend is these days, you will invariably get a list, maybe even with as many as six names on it. In some ways, this is youth. However, I also think this is indicative of a disregard for labels—at least as far as friendship is concerned.
Fairies are real.
A couple of years ago when she was in Kindergarten, I got a couple of emails from some perturbed parents. Apparently, my daughter had convinced all six of her best friends that fairies were real. She explained how you write them a note and hide it in the backyard, and then the next day you went out to see what they left for you. Needless to say, I deeply regretted the library book choice that led to this activity.
When I was introduced to this concept, I was a little grouchy, too, so I could understand the other parents’ ire. Luckily for me, she forgot about it after a few days—which was great because I heard the fairy was running out of pink Post-it notes she was answering her with…
Even Santa can have a bad day.
Early in the season, my daughter wrote a letter to Santa with what she expected on Christmas morning. Her list was challenging, to say the least. It included an iPhone 6 and an iPad mini (neither of which she had a remote chance of getting) and my personal favorite reach, a puppy. I told her Santa wasn’t going to bring her any of these things but she just sighed and looked at me like I was an idiot as she explained, “Mom! I just put those there so he would get me what I really want.” Diabolical!
Now that I had been set straight, we mailed the letter to the North Pole (“Santa doesn’t need a zip code. He’s too famous.”). Surprisingly, we got a letter back. Unfortunately, Santa told her in it she had been “a very good boy this year. “
Good lord, Santa! Lay off the eggnog, you geriatric genius.
Not sure how to cover the blunder, I hesitated, my mind preoccupied with composing the exact words I wanted to use on the pissy phone call to Santa’s answering service. My daughter on the other hand was neither hesitant nor pissy. She folded the letter up and set it down on the table before she said, “I guess Santa was having a bad day.” Crisis averted.
I suppose it doesn’t matter what the traditional role of mom and daughter is. If I can teach her things, why couldn’t she teach some things to me? Frankly, she is more mature than me in a few areas anyway. I can only hope one day when I grow up, I will be as wise as my seven-year-old.
Have you learned any lessons from your kids? I'd love to hear them in the comments!
Post originally published on Moms Magazine.
Post originally published on Moms Magazine.
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