When I Get Bigger

Cambrie is a funny girl. By funny, I mean "peculiar in ways that are mostly awesome and make us laugh." Another possible definition is "a euphemism for a typical three-year-old who is, at times, the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, and please, age four, come quickly."

Now, I could write a whole post on what we're learning about parenting with our independent, smart, awesome, emotional little girl (and how we can't wait for the fabled "Fabulous Fours"), but today something different struck me. Our little girl can't wait to be older, either.

When we find ourselves battling with Cambrie's little three-year-old sense of independence, one of the phrases that will often calm her down is to explain that she can do X, Y, or Z when she's bigger. I don't know why this works--it sounds kind of like a cop-out answer to me--but she really clings to the promise of freedom that "being bigger" brings.

Yesterday she was helping me make pancakes and had requested a snake pancake. I poured the batter and let it cook, but when I went to flip it, it tore a little. Not good on an already tantrum-riddled morning.

"No, mommy! Don't rip it!"

"Well I didn't mean to. I'm sorry it ripped, but it will be fine; it's still yummy."

Cue the rising temper tantrum.

"No! Mommy!! I don't want it ripped!! Whinewhinecrycrynailsonblackboardaaauugghh!!"

"Whoa! Hold up there, kiddo! This is no reason to flip out!" (I know, I'm not very understanding, am I.) "When you are bigger you can make and pour and flip your own pancakes that will never tear, I'm sure, but until then you'll have to deal with my flipping. You'll be fine."

Now, this was no calculated use of the phrase "When you are bigger." In fact, it was mostly just me being completely unsympathetic. But the raging storm faded, and she thought for a bit.

A few moments passed as I continued flipping and pouring. Soon, happily and conversationally, she said, "When I'm bigger, I will make pancakes and make pancake tape. And when I grow small again, you can make pancakes, and you can use my pancake tape!"

Sounded like a good solution to me. My little Miss Hyde was a resourceful Dr. Jekyll again, and the rest of pancake-making proceeded rather painlessly.

It's amazing to me that she's old enough to look forward to the future now. It hit me even more this morning as I was watching the reports on Hurricane Sandy's destruction; Cambrie sees and remembers so much, and what she sees will affect how she views the future. She heard one brief segment on the news that she rephrased by saying, "The Good Guys will help them." I was grateful for that bit of positive reporting.

I tried to explain to Cambrie in simple words what had happened. But watching my little pancake-tape-inventor eyeing the torn buildings and sunken cars, I swallowed the words in my mouth. Of all the things I wanted her to learn, fear wasn't one of them.

I turned off the TV.

"Because of the big storm, babe, a lot of people need help. They need food, water and warm blankets. And Cambrie? We can be the Good Guys."

After explaining that, no, we can't drive in the car to help these people out--we were too far away--I took her to the computer. Together we did something that I often mean to do, but more often forget to or am distracted from.

We visited the Red Cross website, and she helped me to make a small donation.

Cambrie, right now you are little. There are things that you are not able to do. But, both now and as you get bigger, you are capable of so much more than you think. You can be strong; you can be the Good Guy; you can make a real difference.

Thank you for reminding me that I can, too.