Passing the Muddy Torch

You may see a girl playing in the mud. I see me as a child. I see her creative wheels starting to churn. I see her doing just what I used to do when I was her age. So when I went outside today and saw her making quite the mess in some dirt that has desperately been beckoning the grass to head south and creep into its vicinity...my first instinct was to ask her to stop making the mess. Thankfully (**thankfully**) I didn't.

Instead I ran inside and got my camera. I know. Shocking. I do tend to take a lot of pictures.

She asked why I was taking a picture of her playing in the mud. It seemed a bit of an ordinary moment to her, I guess. When I told her, "Because I used to do the exact same thing when I was your age" she replied, "Ah-ha! So it's NOT my fault! YOU made me do it! You passed it on to me!"

Indeed I did. I used to carve out paths in my mom's garden on a daily basis, then fill them with water. Then I'd get pieces of bark and shells from the pecan tree lurking over my head and float them down the path. See...I was creating the log ride at Six Flags. Then I'd go on to make an entire water park. Yes. All in the mud. In my mom's garden that she worked so hard on. And she never, ever told me to stop. She always came out and watched and asked questions. She *always* made me feel important and worth her time. She made time for me.

Hopefully I'll pass on more positive than negative traits and interests to this precocious little girl. I know I'm not the perfect woman (is there one?), but I do love my family with all my heart. Hopefully I'll pass that down to her, as well.

She is definitely one to make her own path, to a degree anyway. But just like her mom, she needs some attention every now and then (who me?!) and needs to hear she is loved. I tell her every day just how much she means to me to fill her sweet little heart. And right now, unfortunately, we are going through a bit of a selfish stage. She wants the world to revolve around her. I'm assured by the majority of my friends this is, in fact, a stage - but it may get worse before it gets better. Pray for me. :-) And her. We've had quite a few 'come-to-Jesus' talks.

One friend said, "Just wait until she starts slamming the door in your face and telling you she hates you." Ummmmm...no. That will NOT be good. Thanks to another friend of mine long ago who passed on some creative parenting tips I will not soon forget.

Slam the door? Fine. The door becomes mine and gets put in the garage until you learn manners. Leave your things lying around the house? That's cool. I'll put them on a table in the garage and you can purchase them back in the order they were picked up, not the order in which you prefer to have them. And you will purchase them back with your allowance.

I swear I wish she'd written a book of all the things she did. They were classic. Problem is she would tell us all this at Bunko when we were invariably drinking! These two I remembered though.

Anyway, point is I see some of me in my Belle and it reminds me again I need to be on my best behavior. The whole 'monkey-see; monkey-do' thing. I'm partly responsible for the adult she will become and what she will consider interesting and important. Please, God, help me! :-)

And her. xoxo