No, tell me how you really feel

Over the past few months, I’ve been working diligently with Kate on “feelings” and “feeling words”. Apparently growing up without unimpeded access to your emotions contains dire consequences. Yes, you might turn out to be a self-deprecating, procrastinating, over-committing, neurotic, Banana Republic loving, over-achieving, Jack Johnson adoring, organic food eating, crazed lunatic. Or, so I’ve been told. Suffice to say, this is an area that does not really come all that naturally to me.

In an effort to compensate for that shortcoming and my lack of role model status in this area, I’ve made a concerted effort to regularly talk about feelings and interject feeling-related jargon into typical conversations with Kate. In fact, I’ve been very self-help book sounding as I’ve relentlessly prodded my 3-year old to ackowledge and divulge her current emotional state.

I think this might be an area that comes naturally to her.

Case in point:

This evening, we were outside swinging on her playset. I was on one swing and she was on the other side, being pushed by Craig. She takes great delight in our synchronized swinging and is forever attempting to swing higher than her mother. At least we know her competitive gene hasn’t been mutated by all of this feeling nonsense, right?

ME: Kate, I think you are swinging higher.
KATE: No, I think you are swinging higher.
ME: No Kate, you are swinging higher.
KATE: Don’t say that mom.
ME: What? Why?
KATE: That’s annoying. Stop saying that.
ME: What?!?!?
KATE: Stop, stop saying that; its annoying.