It has come to my attention that my 7 year old daughter is way more popular than I am. Her public is demanding that her antics be shared on a more frequent and detailed basis. This is not meant to leave out her wonderful big sis, Parker. But lets face it, Parker was a child of the video age. We have endless photographs and videos of Parker in her adorableness from the time she was too little to care on up to and covering her humiliation at being asked "stupid" questions just so we could record it on tape. Peyton is a child of the digital age. She had her first Utube video posted when whe was 5 (talent show--see link) and has multiple pictures stored, not in a huge box in a closet beside her sister, but on a hard drive on mommy's computer. It's sad really. If someone broke in the house and went strictly by what they found cataloged and stored in boxes, Peyton may not exist. For this reason, (and maybe more for the reason that alzheimers runs in the family), I've taken to sharing her little quirks and daily "funnies" digitally too-via Facebook posts.
I should've known I was in trouble when she came out in full make-up for the first day of Kindergarden. Im not talking a little sparkley eyeshadow and some lip gloss. Im talking full-on contrasting eye color, mascara, blush, powder and frosted pink lipstick. The argument that ensued over why exactly she had to wash her face left me wondering why I was having to have this discussion at least 8 to 10 years ahead of schedule. Who was this child? Did someone switch my innocent baby girl with a minature woman when I wasn't looking? I won the battle on that day, but have had several moments since then when I've looked over at her during church and wondered, "Is she wearing mascara?" The answer was yes. My disapproving look was met with a "what?" and a shrug of tiny shoulders. Oh boy.
Peyton just has a different way of thinking. And it's highly entertaining. This is a child who announced to me not long ago that several of her dolls had cancer. Yes, that's right, cancer. "How do you know?" I asked. "Because Mom, they have no hair!" Duh mom. More rolling of the eyes. At first I was disturbed, but then I watched how carefully she was caring for them. Tending to them, wrapping their wounds carefully, pretending to feed them and soothe them. Maybe, I thought, this is a nurse in training. Maybe this is good practice for dealing with things that, as adults, terrify us. Or maybe, she's just practicing being a good mom. Regardless, I decided not to let it disturb me any longer.
She has a funny way of looking at herself too. I love that she refers to her round little belly as "her chunkiness". She's always been pretty confident even though she is starting to have that confidence challenged (blasted little schoolmates!). I still love it when she's changing clothes and runs through the house yelling "Nakey Squeezes!" and hugging everyone. She's really outgrown that now, but it gets a replay now and again when she thinks of it. However, now it's more likely that she will run through the house in an old discarded bra she found in the Goodwill donation bag in my bedroom, stuffed with socks and asking everyone what we think. Her dad covers his eyes in embarassment and looks at me as if to ask why I have no control over her. Little does he know, this is the least of his concerns! I have a feeling we are in for quite a ride with this one.......and I haven't even told him that she has started shaving her legs........
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