Magna Doodle Confessionals

The evidence was destroyed quicker then I could get my camera.
'I love Jackson,' had been written on the Magna Doodle that was in a certain girl that lives in my houses' bedroom.

You know immediately I try to convince myself, oh she forgot to add 'Michael,' before Jackson, how silly. Surely, like her mother she loves to dance to 'Don't Stop Till You get Enough,' and 'Thriller,' duh.

I mean for crying out loud, she's 7. Then I clearly remember me and my girly friends chasing a certain boy around on the black top at recess in Kindergarten. Kindergarten! I think we were trying to pinch him or something absolutely stupid. Socialization and admiration at that age are very primitive...ok, so maybe sometimes they still are. I wish I could remember his name. Something cute and very kindergarten crush appropriate I think. Any girl who was in Kindergarten with me, feel free to chime in, the brain fart is starting to annoy my o.c.d.

So I continue my clean up of the rooms saying to myself, 'let it be, this is her room, her privacy, her little crush.' Then of course I remind myself who I really am, nosey, and decide to just, 'make mention,' of Magna Doodle confession in some, I am that mom, moment.

She is in the shower in her little blissful singing in the shower moment and I ask, 'Hey Kendall, so is there a Jackson in your class, or like a Jack that rides the bus, I like that name, but I can't remember if they are the same person or not?' I know, real subtle, I'm real classy like that. She freezes in place. Minutes go by and she swings the shower door open, flaming red cheeks. 'Jackson is in my class, Jack is on the bus.' Swings shower door back closed.

Then she starts this fake laugh chuckle thing. 'Hey Mommy, I can't believe what I did today. I was writing on the doodle thing, and I was going to write, I love Jacob, but I couldn't remember how to spell his name, and I ended up writing Jackson by accident, so funny...right!?!?!' Followed by another tirade of fake awkward chuckles.

Here's a few things about this moment presented to me by my daughter, who absolutely stinks at lying:

1. The fake laugh (it is so awkwardly funny that I have to walk away so I don't bust out laughing at it in front of her, you know the laugh a bit of nervous combined with a bit of obnoxious then forcefulness)
2. She knows how to spell Jacob foward and backwards, there was no moment of confusion with this.
3. She would not just write, 'I love Jacob, ' on her Magna Doodle. Her love for her brother is deep, but not worth proclaiming on a Magna Doodle. He is 3. His main objective right now, is to annoy the crap out of her. This does not produce that warm fuzzy feeling.

She then proceeds to go on and on about it randomly throughout the rest of the evening.
'Oh my gosh, I just cannot believe I wrote Jackson instead of Jacob, that was just such a funny mistake.'
'Oh man, Jacob is J-A-C-O-B, not how I spelled it, which I think spelled Jackson, what an error on my part.'
'Mommy? How do you spell Jacob again? I just want to make sure I don't make a silly mistake like that again.'

This goes round and round until I finally am completely regretful of even being nosey in the first place, so perhaps for me, lesson learned.

I sit her down and say, 'look, I know you wrote Jackson on purpose, and it is completely normal for you to be a bit smitten with a boy in your class. You think a boy is cute, that's it, you don't have to make up stories about it to Mommy. I had crushes on boys too, probably a few too many that left me completely distracted all day long, but I did. End of story.'

As you may have gathered, I am a tell it like it is kind of girl, and so this obviously extends into my parenting; 'I told you if you used that chair to climb up on that ledge you were going to fall and get hurt, now get up and go and put the chair back where you got it from, and then I will inspect you for injuries that might be permissible to cry about, there is no evidence of immediate blood or loss of consciousness so therefore return the chair and stop climbing up on ledges to jump off of.'

However, my daughter, is my daughter and like I have said, I am nosey. So this continues as I am tucking her into bed. 'Mommy, you thought boys were cute? Like what boys? What did they look like, what were their names? I can't believe you thought boys were cute too!!!' I told her, dude, this list could easily fill a novel of which we could never read in one night, but that no, I am not an alien, and yes, I can actually relate to you. 'So give me one.' In an effort to appease her, and make her feel a bit normal and relatable in an embarrassing moment of such, I gave her one. I told her about the boy I had a crush on all through elementary school and high school and never ever told him about until graduation day. A fit of giggles ensued. 'MOMMMMY!!!! You should have told him! I bet he had a crush on you and you could have had crushes together, and you could have swung on the swings at recess together!!!'

I didn't bother to explain further then that, that life really doesn't actually always work like Disney Fairy Tales that you wrap up in a perfect little gift box. I didn't share with her that there would be tears, and confusion, and hurt, and frustrations. I didn't let her know that she will read and reread notes from boys looking for hidden clues to his undying love. I didn't let her know that she will torture herself listening to songs on the radio and cry over dumb boys who thought another girl was prettier. I didn't let her know that she will spend half of school dances in the girls bathroom with her girlfriends consoling them or getting consoled because a boy she thought was cute was dancing with another girl. I let her have her little crush, because that is really all it is. She is in first grade. I didn't panic and question if I thought she was growing up too fast for her years of 7. I mean really, at the end of the day, mastering a cartwheel is still much more important to her. There was no reason for me to go into with her more then what it was, and as usual, back my train up.

She is a spirited little girl who has a crush on a boy who gives her his only chocolate cookie from his lunch bag because he knows they are her favorite, and who holds the swing still at recess so she can hop on before going to play soccer with his buddies. He is also the boy who, 'accidentally,' bumps into her and laughs when the class is attempting to get into line, just to get her attention. This is so caveman, why do they do things like this to girls?

I met Jackson the other day on the school field trip. I took in his ripped at the knee jeans, his tee shirt with a motor oil logo on the front, his converse sneakers, cheeks with a smudge of dirt on it from playing too hard with something, and his messed up hair. I listened as he loudly asked Kendall as he bumped by her, 'did you like the play?' Something tells me she too will have a confession on high school graduation day.

I mean I totally don't blame Jackson, who wouldn't save this girl a cookie?

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