Here is another gem that came home recently:
I was reading through this and honestly, some strong yet conflicted emotions arose. How is it that my Child Robot is seemingly defined by making mommy happy via cleaning up? So much that “clean-up” was her answer three times? I am horrified and also very proud in a Stepford sort of way, but mostly horrified.
Now, I know very well that the clean-up which is required a few times a week is brought about by hours (admittedly sometimes minutes) of well enjoyed play. It is this joy of play that disperses every toy off of its shelf or out of its bin, covering every inch of carpet in the play room. Surely that qualifies for some well ordered clean-up time, no?
I just hope her teacher saw it that way as well. I’d like to think that she’s picturing a happy working song being sung by my little robot as she picks up puzzle pieces, while tiny birds flutter overhead placing objects on shelves. And oh, there are squirrels there too! They are humming along as they pick up matchbox cars and little princess figurines. They place them all in bins while I sing the harmony with my apron on and vacuum in hand.
You know, instead of picturing Child Robot scrubbing the bathroom floor while Mommy Dearest screams out, NO WIRE HANGERS EVER!!!!!
Because really, who likes to clean-up?
Then I remember that this is the same girl who just a week ago chose the consequence of no television for days in protest of picking up her toys. Ok, I’m convinced; she’s totally playing me.
On a serious note, what I really want to focus on is front and center, where she says that she wants to be a firefighter. I love that. I love that she she knows she can be whatever she wants to be. You go, Girl.
