You know Ella. This Ella ...
... who swore there wasn't any paint on her face. She's a Hot Mess!
And this Ella ...
... who really prefers to do all her reading with her glasses on. Yep, a Hot Mess!
And this Ella ...
... always making me laugh ...
and this Ella ...
And, yes, my Ella will be starting preschool in September. Three 1/2 days a week, she will be under the care and guidance of another. I am both grateful, and concerned, over this.
Oh, let me clarify. It's not that I'm going to have the "oh - how can I let my baby go?" breakdown that I've only read about. No . . . my concern is something completely different. The concern of getting that look from the teacher when I go to pick her up after her first week. You know that look. The one that says, "Oh, you're ELLA'S MOTHER. Well, that explains EVERYTHING."
You see, Ella is my . .. . Hot Mess.
Yesterday, as I stood at the kitchen sink washing some dishes, I heard Ella walking up the stairs from the family room. "Damn It!" she said loudly, as she dropped one of her toys on the way up.
"Ella, what did you just say?" I asked (which, alone, is a really stupid thing to ask the child who has just uttered the curse word. I mean, do I really want her to repeat it? NO. Why do I ask her what she just said? augh!)
"Nothing, Mommy," she answered.
"Ella, WE do not say that word in our house. That is a bad word and Mommy doesn't like to hear you say such a word." I reply, which is obviously a lie, I mean - we must say that word in our house. Where else would she have heard that word. You see, I get it. I really do. But Ella, my Hot Mess, settled it.
"Mommy, WE did not say that word. I said that word," she answered.
She's 3 1/2.
And a Hot Mess, yes she is! But, she's MY Hot Mess! And I wouldn't have her any other way.
This post is linked to Word Up, Yo!