For those of you out there who are vaguely unaware. I am a slightly more conservative member of the free-range parenting movement. I let my kid experience life. I let her explore ways to help out.
For instance, just yesterday she decided she was big enough to help take the trash to the bin on the curb. I feel, as a parent, that I should be there if she needs help (like hefting the bag into the bin that is obviously taller than she is) but I should let her choose whether she drags the bag of refuse down the right or left side of the car to get it there. I mean, really, there isn't a right an wrong way to take out the trash. There isn't a right and wrong way to load the dishwasher. There isn't a right and wrong way to put your clothes in the hamper. These are all things my daughter is excited to be able to help with and I am not about to do anything to hamper that willing attitude. Since I left the nest, I have never lived with another person who didn't have to be nagged to help with chores at least once. That is three sets of grown women as roommates and an ex boyfriend who would rather . . . well. I will tell you that story someday, if you ask.
This is a time in my little girl's life when I have to encourage independence. There are a number of things I would like her to go to college knowing how to do herself: cooking, saving, growing stuff. Take the above picture for instance. On the side of the sink you'll notice a missing (what was a half roll) of toilet paper. You'll notice her hand nearest the camera is wet and what you can't see is that she is holding part of the paper roll the tp comes on. In the potty is the other piece of that tube and on the floor over there is a slight smear of poop.
Under that tube piece that is in the potty, though, is a larger piece of poo. This is a huge milestone for us today. She went into the bathroom on her own, pulled down her own pants (et al) climbed up on the potty seat and dumped a big ol' . . . in the pot. She hollered at me to help her get cleaned up . . . obviously after she decided it was a bigger job than she could handle, but still. It won't be long before I don't have to worry about random presents on the carpet. If you've been following (hi, to the new person I am not sure if I know or not) this is the most glorious day of potty training yet. I know I am a long way from this being consistent but she is trained at night and mostly consistent during the day. I think I am going to cry as I type . . . she's getting so big. But, she is still an only child. Who only has a dog to play with. She is also about to, in the not so distant future, spend two days in a car.
Now, I know that in Oklahoma 50 degrees is analagous to 0 degrees, but where we are going - it actually is 0 degrees . . . in March. I get that people in my neighborhood are aware that I am a single mom but folks, that does not mean that I am stupid. Why do people think that? It's not like there are politicians who are actively perpetuating the idea that single moms are poor, trailer trash that don't know how to keep from having children and are a drain on society or . . . wait. I guess I should expect people to feel that way. Unless they asked, they would have no way of knowing that I am an educated single mother with a full time job that provides ample insurance who has never taken a dime of help from anyone, not even her child's father and is currently pursuing her master's. But that means someone would have to come and talk to me and they don't.
That brings me to today and this last picture up there. Xyla was squealing while she was playing with the dog outside today. Running around the yard having a grand old time. She was trying to keep him from eating her crackers. As you can see she was wearing long sleeves, long pants and her shoes. While it wasn't freezing, it was a bit chilly. To be honest, she is not a child who will tolerate being cold. When I felt her skin she was not cold (even her fingers). She was running in and out of the house. This is a common occurance where I am from. Once it's warm enough (over 10 degrees) kids play outside. When it hits a 50 degree heatwave, they can go without a coat.
The door bell rings. I closed the back door just a bit so the dog didn't get out. I honestly thought it was my neighbor bringing her kids over to play for a while so she had time to clean her house. She was totally cool with her kids being outside too and she had just been out there in nothing but her house coat. I open the door and it is actually the male neighbor from two doors down. His wife had sent him over to ask me if I knew that my daughter was outside without a jacket.
(Cricket)
(Cricket, cricket)
There are days when it is so hard to be polite. I told him, thanks for his concern and that indeed I did know that she was out there. I started to close the door but he continued - "you know my wife sent me over because she is kind of concerned that she is outside and it's a little cold and your little girl doesn't have a coat on. Like he was going to stand there until I put a snow suit on her. I said, the door is open unless she closes it so she has free range (hint, hint) to go out there if she wants and come inside if she gets cold. I trust her judgement. I know she doesn't have her jacket on but right here next to the house, where I am actually sitting just inside the door watching her play, the sun makes it quite a bit warmer than the air lets on. Again, thank you for your (condescending) concern but she is just fine. They must think I abuse my child, you know the way we play in the snow or enjoy it (read: stand in it) when the snow is falling. It makes me want to go home even more.
So I write this post today hoping that I will not be getting a visit from child welfare on Monday. I am not sure what my neighbors would do if they found out I was a Yankee. I know, it's a term usually reserved for people from the northeast but honestly they don't have a word for northwesterners, it's like they think we only exist in fairy tales.
