I was carrying her and as I walked by the mattress store, the mattress salesman out front, unsuccessfully trying to lure people in, took one look at my daughter and said, “You are way too big for your mom to be carrying you.”
I had to bite my little “trying to be a good example” tongue because what I really wanted to say was, “Beat it, mattress man.”
She turned three on Friday. But she looks like she’s four and she talks like she’s five. Because of her appearance, I think people expect a little more from her than they should. It’s going to take a few more years before this balances out, but in the meantime, when people expect a lot from you, and you still want to have a throw down over which pair of pajamas you’re going to wear, you’re at a little bit of an expectation disadvantage.
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Yes. I still carry her sometimes. Is she too big to carry? She’s tall, and she’s 35 pounds, and her judgement is preschooler spotty. Does she look for cars? Not really. Does she try to break free and dash through parking lots? Sometimes. Does she think breaking into a sprint in the middle of Bed, Bath and Beyond is hilarious? Yes.
But soon all of this is going to pass, and she’s not going to ask to be picked up anymore. Her judgement will change, and she’ll be more trustworthy. In the meantime, she doesn’t need to get the idea that she’s “too big” and if my back starts to hurt, that’s my choice as her mother.
So sir…beat it.
At what point did you stop carrying your children?