Raising a Mighty Girl

A few weeks ago, Baby G came to me with a proud grin on her face and presented me with a piece of paper. She informed me that she was writing a chapter book and that this was her first chapter. Relishing this stage in her life, where the joy of reading and writing is being discovered with great excitement, I took this treasured manuscript from her and began to read:

“Once, there was a person and her name was Michelle Lewsen and she went to a place and she fell down and then she got up. She found a Nowhere and then she fell in it. She was never found. The end.”

“So, Baby G, this is a story about me?”, I asked nervously (wouldn’t you be afraid if you were the one falling into the Nowhere, never to be found?).

“Oh, no, Mama. It’s about another Michelle Lewsen who is NOT my mummy.”, she solemnly reassured me. 

(I wasn’t reassured.)

“What happened to Michelle after she fell into the Nowhere, Baby G?”, I probed.

With a sly smile, she explained, “The next bit is in Chapter Two, but you have to wait until tomorrow for that.”

No amount of pleading was going to budge my budding young author, so I waited. That night, I tossed and turned and worried about this story of hers. Why such a dark story from my rainbows-and-princess obsessed daughter? Was there something going on that was worrying her?

I didn’t have to wait too long. The next morning, Baby G bounded into my bedroom at an obscenely early hour and excitedly demanded that I wake up because she had written Chapter Two. Rubbing my eyes, I stumbled out of bed and downstairs, her little hand in mine. She giggled with anticipation and pulled me to the couch for a cuddle.

Snug on the couch with my daughter by my side, I began to read Chapter 2:

“When Michelle got up, she saw a hill and she shouted “HELP!” and no one came. The end.”

This story was getting worse. Not only did she have Michelle-who-wasn’t-me-but-shared-a-surname falling into a Nowhere but when she called for help, nobody came? What kind of messed up story was this? I begged for Chapter Three and Baby G giggled with mirth like an evil dictator. Arms crossed, she shook her head and told me to wait until the next day for Chapter Three.

The next morning, I was woken again by the little author, clutching her manuscript and bouncing from one foot to the other with uncontained delight. I followed her nervously (who knew what was going to befall Michelle today?) as she bounded down the stairs to the couch for our morning reading session.

Before I started reading, she grabbed my arm and looked into my eyes as she very seriously explained that this was the final chapter in the saga. I took a deep breath and began to read:

“When Michelle got up, she realised that she was stuck in the mud so she pulled and pulled and pulled and she got out and GIRL, she was proud. The end”

I smiled at her with my whole soul. I think, right then, my heart burst. This page of writing couldn’t have made me happier. My Baby G had created a character who was lost and stuck in a place nobody could find her. Her character had called for help and even so, nobody had come to save her. So, what did she do? She pulled herself out of the mud. She saved herself. When I asked Baby G what she meant by “GIRL, she was proud”, she defiantly explained that her way was so much better than saying “Boy, she was proud”.

As for me – GIRL, was I proud, too.

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This post is the part of my first attempt to take part in BlogHer’s NaBloPoMo (National Blog Post Month). It is going to be a huge challenge for me to publish a post every day of the month of November but I will give it my all. I hope you’ll join me for the ride.

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