Perspective

Cora was complaining today that we have a lack of dandelions in our yard for her to make wishes on. She said there were plenty at school for her to blow, but she couldn't find any in our grass. I explained to her that dandelions were weeds and that Daddy did everything he could to keep them from popping up in our yard. She was furious he would deprive her of thousands of potential wishes and vowed to stop him from killing them.

Pesky weed to me, delightful flower to her. Much as a torrential downpour is welcomed by a drought-stricken farmer and despised by a baseball bound boy, so many things in my life are met with opposite perspectives.

To the extreme we have situations like September 11th. Our nation mourned one of the greatest tragedies on American soil, while the masterminds behind the attacks rejoiced and patted themselves on the back for a job well done. And on a much smaller scale we have the fight Claire and I have daily: to nap or not to nap. I believe with every inch of my being that her body is exhausted and her mood/attitude/happiness (ahem, my sanity) will be positively affected by a few hours of mid-day shut-eye. She believes with every inch of her being that she will be missing out on so much while tucked snugly in dreamland. She is certain we have wild princess parties where we stuff ourselves with an endless supply of Swedish Fish and popsicles.

We talk in circles until I am almost screaming. Until I remember that she is four. She views the world differently. She still believes in a dandelion's beauty. On the days I pause my because-I'm-the-mom-and-I-said-so rants to remember that, we skip naps and feast on candy and ice cream at an afternoon princess tea. Because I fear the day she walks the lawn with a bottle of weed killer is just around the corner, I'm making a conscious effort to enjoy every moment before the perspective shift.