Dinosaur Tattoo

She chose a dinosaur tattoo at her school carnival, last night.

This morning she awoke and did yoga in her pink socks and monkey pajamas.  Her outfit of choice for this afternoon's activities included her Halloween costume's cowboy hat, cowgirl shirt, cheetah print pants and pink tennis shoes.

I would say a well-balanced selection of things she likes rather than what SHE is expected to wear as a young girl in today's society.

Something has been bugging me for the past few weeks, and I have an uneducated K-Mart employee to thank for that.

While browsing through the various costumes at K-Mart, Chloe was immediately drawn to the various werewolf masks and super-hero costumes.  She was really looking for batman but though she could be "wolfman" instead - that is until the famed K-Mart employee asked Chloe why she was looking at the "boy" costumes and why wouldn't she want to be a princess instead?

Chloe replied, in her matter-of-fact kind of way that she has, as though everyone should know what she knows.... "because I'm not that kind of girl, I'm an everything kind of girl - kind of a boy-girl".

Bravo dear daughter.  As you will discover (as you are currently discovering), there is much to explore and gender is not necessarily a barrier for you.

Eyes wide open, breathing it all in, you are learning what the K-Mart employee certainly missed - and is missing out in.  She will forever be held captive in her princess crown, waiting for her Prince Charming to come rescue her....you, sweet child, will never need rescuing unless you want to be rescued.

“Mom, I just had a baby!  Her name is Chloe Zoe too, but she has blue eyes just like you!”

Although certainly this bit of news comes from my five year old, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll utter the same words when she does in fact have a baby of her own (albeit with a different name).

She enters the room presenting her newborn baby to me, holding her gently to her chest, and gently rocking side to side and speaking in a hush, “you are going to have to babysit, I’m going to the Navy”.

“If he cries while I’m gone, you’ll have to call my number 258-904.”

And she’s gone, just like that.  Like when I was in the Navy; with the deployments, training exercises, and the numerous impromptu trips I had to take.  Just like that, I was gone.

I can hear the phone ringing now, “Hi mom, can you watch the kids?  Thanks, bye.”

She’s carrying her doll around by the head now.  “My baby is cool.” 

“What’s so cool about your baby, Chloe?” I ask.

“My baby is confident, doesn’t argue, and does the dishes.” She responds.

Wow.  Doesn’t argue and does the dishes; sounds eerily the opposite of her brothers (even though they are still cool). 

She’s now putting a band-aid on her baby.  “He was riding his bike and fell down and cut his knee.”  Her baby is now a boy, and a kid.  Chloe says, “He’s learning”.  It seems as though her baby isn’t the only one learning.

Back into her arms, rocking.

I want to fold her up into my arms, and rock, forever.

Jumping on a freshly made bed

I bought new sheets the other day, it is winter and I was in need of something warmer than the 5 million count Egyptian Cotton.  I bought hot chocolate colored, microfiber flannel (something I was not allowed to own in my previous marriage, along with silk PJs – totally another story).  Strangely, the sheets were marked down to practically nothing!

So I washed and dried the new sheets and Chloe and I got started on making the bed (purple is her favorite color and is being used to emphasize the excitement with which Chloe tended to her task of “right side of the bed maker”).  Slowly the bed started to come together; and Chloe started to come apart…with so much excitement she could not physically hold it in.

“Can I get on it yet?”
“Is it ready yet?”
“Now mom? Now?”

Jumping up and down, wringing her hands together with a similar excitement as if she were waiting for Christmas morning to arrive.

“Yes Chloe, you can get on”

Up she went, and down she came.  She jumped until she could barely stand it.  Her squeal of delight was like music to my ears.  It got me thinking about jumping on beds and why it is such a momentous occasion: not only do they bounce, but beds are a great way to escape.

I’m the oldest of three girls; we are all about two years apart.  My middle sister and I shared a room, where our two beds were against different walls with a dresser between the headboards and a blue rug in the middle.  I not only LOVED jumping on my bed, but we would jump back and forth to each other’s beds.  Not casually bouncing, but skillfully and with fervor reminiscent of a Gold Medal winning Bed Jumper.

The blue rug beneath was in fact troubled water, infested with hundreds of hungry crocodiles.  We were not jumping for pleasure; we were jumping for our lives.  There was no way we were going to let the razor-sharp teeth eat our feet; we HAD to escape.  In 1974, this was the biggest threat to our precious little piggies.  I had forgotten about our life-threatening jump-fests; which to me were more like the sometimes forgotten moments that bond sisters for life.

My bed must seem a vast ocean compared to the small twin beds we had.  There is a lot of ground to cover and many dimples to make.  Chloe and I may not have had the same purpose in jumping; the outcome was always the same…escape. 

I let her jump until there was no jump left in her.  Finally at rest, she collapsed with a smile that could light the town and said, “Thanks mom, you’re the best”.  No Chloe, thank you.  You’re the best.  J

Marryable

One of our favorite things to do is listen to music, and it has been Chloe's favorite thing to do in the car for as long as I can remember.  Fergie's voice soothed baby Chloe to sleep (can't figure that one out either), Aerosmith got toddler Chloe clapping, and Adele inspired Chloe to find her voice.  She also enjoys David Gray, Josh Groban, Amos Lee and John Mayer; all of whom I listen to frequently.  Interestingly though, she doesn't care for Justin Timberlake because he wears earrings.    

Anyways, one day while we were driving, and listening to Josh Groban, she says to me "Mom, he's so handsome", so I wondered, what exactly is she talking about?  I figured it was that she appreciated the "handsome" sounds of his voice and music.  The other day, she played a song on my phone and I thought I'd introduce her to the music video.  Her song of choice, Covered in Rain by John Mayer.  While watching the video, she says, "He's so handsome", so later on I asked her what she meant by handsome and she replied, "you know, wearing a tie, marryable, and the kind of thing that girls like".  So, it got me thinking, what is the origin of the word handsome?

The history of the word "handsome" according to http://word-ancestry.livejournal.com/13941.html:  
"The original sense was of something 'easy to handle, ready at hand', which led to the word being used in some contexts to mean 'suitable, apt'.  By 1577, this had become 'fair-size, considerable', meaning that it took all of one's hand to use or wield it.  It wasn't until the very end of the 16th century that the modern definition of 'having fine form or quality, good-looking' took effect."

Merriam-Webster defines handsome as:
"Having a pleasing and usually impressive or dignified appearance".


How would I define handsome?  Unfortunately, not as simple as my sweet Chloe, but in staying true to the etymology of the word, my definition would go something like this: authentic, dependable, compassionate, and empathetic.  Nowhere in the origin of the word did it mention appearance; that was added much later.  I prefer to think of handsome as "suitable", which equals "marryable" (Chloe's word).


So, in consideration of the above references, Chloe was pretty spot on in her definition. I appreciate the words she chose and that it actually encompasses a lot more possibilities and takes appearance out of the equation, which in my honest opinion also enhances the quality of the individual.  Isn't what's inside that counts the most?