"Well, What Does She Do All Day?"

I'm seldom left speechless, but this one had me stumped.  As we were leaving the dentist's office, the clerk (whom we've known for a long time, but not well), offered Kay Kay a sticker.  Apparently, the clerk was asking her, "Do you know so-and-so character?  Do you know so-and-so other character or the other?"  And on and on until finally The Papa explained that she doesn't really watch television so she really doesn't know all those characters.  That's when I got the look and the question, "Well, what does she do all day?"

The question bugged me for days after.  I honestly was stumped.  And so I knew a blog post was brewing.  I had to be able to figure this out.  I mean, I'm with her every day.  Almost all day every day.  Surely I could tell someone what she was doing.  If I can't even remember now, how am I ever going to remember in twenty years when she says, "Mom, what did we do all day?"

So here it is.  Every day is a little different, of course, but this is what a pretty normal day (in our house) would look like:

 She dresses herself.

Well, she does dress herself, but this outfit is sort of an anomaly.  We were going to a birthday party,and she wanted to wear these hand-me-down shorts from her favorite boy neighbor.  "It's cold, Kay Kay, and you need to wear long pants."  "Ok, Mama.  I will wear these pants Miss Dayna gave me."  Faded, too-big hand-me-down pants are at least seasonally appropriate, I thought.  And then she pulled on the shorts.  The sweater?  Her answer to my objection to a short-sleeved t-shirt.  Can you tell I pick my battles?  The way I see it:  when she dresses herself, it's one thing marked off my list.

She helps me cook.

Yes, the pan is hot, and yes, she is careful.

 She fingerpaints...

...and sometimes she doesn't even get her fingers dirty!  (Thank you, Pinterest!)

She dances with JayBird.

Want to know how he feels about that?

She plays dress-up, and dances on the table so she can see herself in the mirror.  And escape her baby brother.  For now, at least.

Double-layered pajamas, fairy princess dress, cape, and kazoo.  On the yoga mat.

So after I mumbled for a few minutes trying to think of some things she does all day (and really to keep them from thinking I just lock her in a closet), the clerk said, "That must be a lot of work for you."  I guess I never thought of it that way.  

I just try my (almost) best (most of the time) to keep her flame burning.  To stay out of her way.  To honor the light within her.

Namaste.

Yes, she's under attack.