The Boss of Me

C is a bit on the bossy side. Let's call her "opinionated" or "persistent" or even "driven"-it sounds nicer. She spends her days telling me what to do. 

Sit down, Mommy.

Stop it.

Mommy, try this.

Tonight, we were playing in the backyard. We have a steep hill on one side which Banks climbs so he can pace back and forth and bark at the neighbor's dog. C, of course, wants to go with him. I usually help her, holding her hands, trying to keep her (and myself) from tumbling back down. But tonight, she took her hand from mine, pushed me away, and said, "Mommy, go swing."

Seriously?

Excuse the dark iPhone pic. It was 8:00.

Then she climbed the scary hill all by herself. But, just as I was sitting on the swing, licking my wounds of rejection, she reached out her little hand and said, "Mommy, I help you" and I held her hand on the way back down.

Watching her gain independence is both exciting and heart breaking. I want her to have the courage to try things on her own; but, a part of me still wants her to run to me for help. Can't I be her best friend forever? No. No, I cannot. But, for a little while at least, I still hold the BFF title in her little world. 

I will simply cherish the moments when she grabs my hand, points to the sky and says, Yook (look), Mommy. The Moon!

I will love the moments when she climbs in my lap and says, Mommy, snuggle; but I will watch with pride as she loosens her grip on my finger and climbs mountains all by herself. That's my girl.