This is not the weekend's "main" post, just something I wanted to commemorate before I forgot it, because it's right up there with my cousin, Zach, who when asked at age 2-3, what he wanted to be when he grew up, answered, "a black policeman." You pretty much HAVE to love their little minds which know no limitations.
(ed. note: Zach is now all grown up, with a beautiful, smart new wife, and I feel obligated to report that he is not involved in law enforcement at all, but is, rather, a, um...well, due to my complete lack of understanding of what it is that he ACTUALLY does, because it involves computers in a much more intense capacity than my comfort zone of "turn it on and blather your inane thoughts all over it," I'm going to call him a "video editor," working for such television outlets as The National Geographic Channel and ESPN. It's a totally cool job. And to complete the non-fulfillment of his childhood dreams, his is still disappointingly white. But he's happy. My sister, who is a high-school English teacher, and not "a singer on T.V.," I think is also pretty content with the unexpected turn her life took from her preschool expectations. How about the rest of you? Has ANYONE actually "grown up" to become what you wanted to when you were 5 or younger?)
I think most of you will recall that Bella recently began attending a private, Christian preschool, where she will go until such time as she is old enough to start at the local public kindergarten, and that I had my small concerns beforehand, which have turned out to be mostly baseless. In addition to learning the basics of phonics and numbers (and honestly? I've been impressed so far), she and the other children learn many good manners, a lot of Bible verses, and Christian children's songs--which, as this is our own faith, and she does the same thing at our church, is fine with us. The thing is, lots of the songs they learn at school are not familiar to me, and she's always wanting me to sing them with her at home. "Jesus Loves Me?" Yeah, I got that one. Also familiar with "God is so Good," and "Jesus Loves the Little Children," etc. I can even, if I REALLY concentrate, come up with most of "Zaccheus Was a Wee Little Man."
But "Get On the Ark?" Nope, sorry, kid. I'll be needing a copy of that one. (Another aside to note that I asked for just that, and the school provided me with all the songs they'll be singing for the next TWO MONTHS, and now I feel responsible for making sure that my child can belt them all out like a little VonTrappe!) After convincing her recently that I did NOT know any of the "Get on the Ark" song, no, not even the "oink, oink, moo, moo," part, as a diversionary tactic, I asked her what ELSE they sang at school that day, at which point, instead of launching into a hearty rendition of "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore," or something else from the Olden Days of Sunday school when I was a kid, she starting in on a new one.
I'm really hoping that this particular number is included in the paperwork that came home with Bella, because it has some major dramatic potential. All I've gotten out of Bella so far, is a loudly tuneful, "God is so GREAT and so strong and so MIGH-TY... mumblemumblemumblemumble Him...all things can I DO!" In an attempt to coax the rest of the lyrics out of her memory, my mother and I were asking prompting questions such as, "And what ELSE can God do?" This responded in a verbatim repeat of the above quoted passage, as well as the "DUH" response, "EVERYTHING," complete with eye-roll. Hmmm.
So, coming from another angle, I tried the question, "Is that all God is, just STRONG and MIGHTY?"
Which garnered me the prized answer, and the reason for me rushing here to journal it on a Saturday afternoon:
"No, Mommy. She is also really pretty."
I love this child. Do you hear me, God? When I talk about how she is driving me crazy, what I am really saying is, "THANK YOU."(Oh, and please don't anyone bother giving me any crap about the Disney princesses nightgown--which was a gift, anyway, so pbbbbllllttt. It's NOT about Disney with this child. It's not even REALLY about "princesses." It's about being GIRLY. And fancy dresses. And ballerinas. And tea parties. And a precocious shoe-obsession. And "fixing" your hair. And watching your skirt twirl around you. And I'll be darned if I'm going to quash it, because she also loves her toy cars and wooden blocks and superhero comics, and I like who she's becoming, all by herself, without being pushed in one direction or another. So there. That was my pre-emptive flame-dousing statement of the day.)