My daughter marches to the beat of her own drums. She dresses to the beat of her own drums. One tutu? Pshaw. Make it seven. Don’t mix patterns? As if. Stripes, plaids, glitter hearts, and polka dots should ALWAYS go together. I LOVE this about my little girl. She’s sweet, sassy, super creative, and oh-so-confident.
And She Wants to Be a Fairy When She Grows Up.
A couple of years ago, Amelia’s class had a “Community Helpers” week at preschool. They learned all about firefighters, police, nurses, doctors, teachers, etc. At the end of the week, each child was asked what they wanted to be when they grow up. Amelia: “A Fairy.” No doubt in her mind. Her teacher tried asking again – but Amelia stuck with it. She has a life plan all set up for herself.
I totally get it. Who WOULDN’T want to be able to fly with magical fairy dust and live in a house made of flowers? And according to Amelia, they wear the very best fairy dresses and have wings made out of glass. Sign me up for that fabulousness!
Part of me knows I’ll eventually have to let her know that “Fairy” isn’t a socially-acceptable occupation for a middle-aged gal.
I know that just like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and a low-cal candy bar that actually tastes good, I will eventually have to talk to my daughter about the fiction of fairies. But not now. Not for a long time. I LOVE the creative, make-believe, fantastical world that my little girl lives in. That kind of imagination and complete abandon shows me that she feels totally comfortable just being whoever – and whatever – she wants. Want to be a fairy? Go for it! Why not? Want to wear 14 hair bows? Sure! Flaunt it if you’ve got it.
(Seriously – have you read the “Fancy Nancy” books? That’s my kid – and her friends – right now.)
But then, a fellow beribboned, bedazzled, and tu-tu’d gymnast told her it wasn’t possible.
When we left preschool gymnastics a couple of weeks ago, Amelia was quiet and upset. When I asked her what’s wrong, she told me that another girl in her class told her that she in fact CAN’T be a fairy when she grows up, because they don’t exist and she has to have a “real” job.
These kids are five.
Is it just me?? Or is it a little sad that this other kid already has this mentality? Yes, a huge part of me felt bad for Amelia, because her little dream world now has a little fracture in it; there’s now a little dark spot of doubt for her that she might not be able to grow up and have the occupation of her dreams: Flying around with a trail of glitter and making rainbows for forest animals to slide down.
But for the most part, I just thought, “Who IS this kid??” Who is this five-year-old that already has the mentality of what’s a “real” job? Is her response “accountant” or “political action committee lobbyist” when asked by a classmate what her dream occupation is?
I know that Amelia is the more naive and innocent of the two kiddos in this situation, and that the other girl is most likely just a bit more mature, a bit more of a realist, etc. But the bleeding-heart momma in me wants to take that girl out into the backyard, weave dandelion necklaces with her, and play make-believe with her with my kids. Just to have her be a true KID for a little bit longer. People said it to me so much when I was pregnant: “Enjoy it!” “It goes so fast!” “Before you know it, she’ll be in school!” I heard it so much I stopped even responding. But it’s TRUE. Oh man is it ever true.
So nope. I’m not going to tell my kid just yet that Tinker Bell isn’t real, or that she’s not going to be able to live in a house made out of dew drops and acorn caps. And if I’m being honest, part of my reasoning is because I want to see that world through her eyes. I want to experience a little bit of a world where I’m not worried about bills, politics, the economy, and world peace. (Reality – laundry and dirty dishes.)
Either way, It’s Not Going to Be an Easy Discussion. Her Back-Up Plan is “Be a Kid” When She Grows Up.
Had I known that was an option, I would have signed up. Being an adult is for the birds some days.