I'm a Little Nervous

Emma is super into how gorgeous she is. She reminds me non-stop of how pretty she is, and then tells me how pretty she thinks I am, then talks about how beautiful it is to be gorgeous and wonderful. She comments on most women and girls we see, and talks about their beauty and what cute shirts they have on, and on, and on, and on...........

For along time now, every time she reports on hers or anyone's beauty status, I prompt her with, "but what's more important than being pretty?" And she will say, "being smart and being nice to people." There is no way she believes it yet, but with the amount of times in a day, that phrase is repeated, hopefully it will sink in. I try to give her examples as well, and praise the crap out of her when she says her ABC's or does something nice. We'll see.

*As a side note, I had a really wonderful Mother's Day. The Hoodlums all wrote me some really great cards, I got a 4 page letter and a homemade journal from Daws, Dyl gave me lots of coupons for various things, Emma got me some M & Ms, then ate them before she saw me, and Dave got me an enormous mirror for my closet. I know that sounds like Emma is getting this drama from me, but in my defense, our counters are all built extra tall because we are all, extra tall. So if I want to see what my shoes look like, I have to stand on our tub, or take Dave's word for it.................

Anyway, he hung up pictures of me with each kid, including Milo, and one of our family, and had everyone write what made me beautiful to them. It was really touching, and made me laugh to see what the kids thought, made me really laugh to read what "Milo" had written,  and made me bawl to see what Dave thought. It was a really sweet gift.

Anyway, back to Em. We were getting dressed the other morning in my closet and Emma had commandeered the spot in front of the mirror, of course. She was admiring herself and then said to me, "Mom, do you know how to do this?" She turned her profile to the mirror, and said, "Hello Boys!" (really loud) and then to herself, "Flip your hair, walk away." Which she did, then placed both hands on her hips and strutted off saying "Sassy, sassy, sassy, sassy."

Wowzers. I was completely blown away. She said she learned it from my niece, Mckaye, which I don't really see, but just in case we had an in depth conversation about possible future arthritis from that much hip action, and the dangers of preschool flirting.

I'm a little nervous for sure, the only thing I have to comfort me right now, is that by the time any of the boys her age catch up to her in height, she might also be legal to date.