Why Don't You Say What's On Your Mind?

As of this past Tuesday, Rachel is 3 1/2. (At exactly what age do we lose the 1/2 designation? I'm not exactly keen to let people know I'm 48 1/2! I'm 48; that's all people need to know! I'm still trying to come to grips with it!)

And one of the joys of being 3 1/2, or any age up until some time in elementary school, is that children have yet to develop that edit button. They just come right out and say whatever comes to their minds. It's refreshing to hear, though to be truthful, if I was still that way at 48 (1/2), I probably would have a lot more gaps on my resume'.

Here is an example of that candor. I'm working an overnight shift these days. The other day, I knelt down and urged Rachel to "be a good girl for mommy while daddy is gone."

She replied, "I'll be a good girl if you get me a yogurt."

I laughed. "I think you've got that backward," I replied. "You can get a yogurt if you've been a good girl."

Recently, we ate dinner at Steak N' Shake. It is one of Rachel's favorite places. She actually eats the food there, instead of her usual four or five bites followed by "I'm done" and the inclusion of another styrofoam container in the Rachel Museum of Unfinished Meals in the refrigerator.

Anyhoo, I suddenly notice that my wife and I have actually carried on a conversation uninterrupted for a whole three minutes. This has caused our world to wobble on its axis.

I turn to Rachel. "You sure are being a good girl," I praise her.

She replies triumphantly, "When I'm a good girl, I get treats!"

Well, call me Pavlov. If I had said that, I would have followed it with, "Excuse me, did I say that out loud?"

Rachel went back to her chicken fingers.

Sometimes, the honesty is more dramatic.

Rachel is in summer school now. My wife is a teaching assistant. She was with two other teachers while the children played in the indoor playground.

Rachel was playing with her friend Bennett when Bennett picked up a soft object and hit Rachel in the face with it. Rachel stopped what she was doing, mouth contorted, tears flowing and ran to her mommy.

"Bennett hit me!" she wailed.

My wife tried to console her. "It was a love tap," she says.

"Noooo!" sniffs Rachel. "It was a BOP!"

My wife and the other two teachers try to suppress snorts at this emotional rendition. Before they can get Bennett to apologize, Rachel is playing with him again.

Despite this indignity. Rachel apparently has no problems with self-esteem. Before she went to bed last night, I read her one of her stories titled, "I Like Myself." Obviously, it urges children to be themselves, not what they think others want them to be.

Often, I read a page and then pause to let my child fill in the final word of the rhyme. So I read the following passage...

"I like me wild.
I like me tame,
I like me different
and the...."

"Best!" Rachel replied.

I'd like to borrow a cup of that confidence after she wakes up this morning!