I will admit partial responsibility for the monster I have created, but only partial.
It started years and years ago when Alexis was born with a birthmark on her forehead. I made it a point to encourage her to -embrace- that which made her different, rather than hide it or be ashamed of it. Over time, the birthmark faded, though it is still visible, and Alexis' confidence around said birthmark grew. We've escalated to the point where Alexis considers the birthmark to be her Emergency Warning System because it becomes more visible when she's angry. Basically, RUN. That's what it means. She's empowered by that whole thing.
And then there's Mila. We all have a thing that makes us physically different from everyone else. Oftentimes it's a thing that people make fun of. In Mila's case, her different thing is her size. I say it all of the time, but it's hard to comprehend how tiny she is unless you see her in person. She is TINY.
And she knows it.
And she LOVES it.
I get some credit for that since I have most definitely taught her all of the advantages to being tiny. They include things like the ability to still wear toddler-sized clothes. She gets to be the flyer at cheer. Everybody thinks she's cute because she's pint-sized. And ... she can pass for a younger age. She knows it and she OWNS it.
One recent example happened while we in Charleston. We went to a plantation to look at gardens and for me to basically ruin my children's lives with the knowledge that America was built on the backs of slaves and, well, we've always sucked. For as long as the country has existed, the rich have profited off cheap or free labor, even when they had done nothing to earn any sort of status other than to be born into the right family. Alexis used to love the romantic version of Southern history that she learned in school, but I went and crushed that whole thing by pointing out how many slaves died so the people who lived in that big fancy house could have a bigger, fancier house.
Yes, I'm great fun at parties.
ANYWAY, there was a fee to visit said plantation. Children 5-12 were $20, in fact, while adults were even more. We sauntered up to the ticket window and the woman working there looked at Mila and said, "She's under 5, right? So she's free?"
I paused. I don't tend to lie about these things, plus she's SEVEN. I think we're past the point of using that trick.
Buuuut ... no. Mila immediately chimed in with, "I'm four!"
She's a very good liar, but also she's very willing to let people think she's younger than she is for the sake of saving some money. I did not teach her that skill. She installed it all by herself.
I do wonder, however, how she's going to deal with looking younger than she is when it comes to the teen years and early twenties. At the rate she's going, she'll be carded until she's 40. Will that make her angry? Or will she love every second of it?
Some day we will find out.
