yesterday a spider scuttled back and forth on the ceiling above the dining room table where elle and i sat. i talked about him in placid tones, about his plump spider body and comically short legs, about how he couldn't seem to decide where he was going. elle's in the middle of a freak-out-at-the-mere-thought-of-a-bug stage, so i hoped our frank (what a great word, frank) discussion would ease her phobia a bit.
standing in the hallway a while later, she wanted to make play dough dinosaurs back at the table. she stood quietly for a moment, thinking about the spider.
"but actually," she told me, "i'm a little bit scared of him. and so i will get an animal to be brave."
i agreed that this was a sound plan, and she returned from her room armed with this furry guy:
in my opinion, mr. floppy ears seemed more liable to cuddle the spider than scare him off, but at any rate, his company bolstered elle's sense of safety.
and i was reminded that sometimes it's good to give her enough space and time to conquer her own monsters, that if i don't jump in with my preemptive mom-ness, she often arrives at a satisfying solution all on her own.
what a great kid.
anatomy of a saturday
10 hours ago