Two weeks ago, I drove Greenleigh across town on a Sunday morning so she could get her nails done. We must have passed 25 other nail places along the way, but there’s only one place that Greenleigh likes to get her nails done. Ridiculous? Absolutely. My husband thought I was insane.
But you see, this is stuff the stuff I understand.
For years I’ve struggled to understand Greenleigh. To interpret her cries and whines. To understand the need for constant attention. To decipher her words. Greenleigh was in no way the go-with-the-flow baby that I needed in order to slowly ease into motherhood. My transition into motherhood with Greenleigh was hard. Very hard.
But getting pretty nails? That’s easy. That’s something I totally understand. And if she prefers the place in our old neighborhood on the other side of town, that’s okay with me, I’ll happily drive her.
Nails are just the beginning though. Lately, I find myself understanding Greenleigh more and more – her princess addiction, her love of shopping, the way she prefers to wear dresses, her love of dance class, and how she wants her hair done in a new and creative style each day (although, we’ve already discussed that I’m incapable of actually doing it). Sure, she has her moments of rough and tumble, but for the most part, she’s a girly-girl – a subject in which I have extensive training and experience…you know, from being me. I was that girly-girl growing up. Even today, there’s still a good bit of that girly-girl in me.
Erajh says that I’ve created a monster, and maybe he’s right, but I prefer to look at it as me hitting my stride. I can do this. I finally feel comfortable in my parenting skin. These are things I understand. After 4 years, I finally “get” her. We have this girly-girl language that we share.
And the other night as Greenleigh grabbed a Michael Kors bag off the shelf and hugged it (at a huge sale going on at the outlet!), I couldn’t have understood her more. Before we left the store, she picked out one bag that she wanted to get right away and another that she wanted to get when she was older…you know, next year…
It’s official – I’ve hit my stride in this whole parenting thing. I’ve got this…for now.
