I Feel Just Like a Hypocrite

So little E. is graduating from pre-school and we have to write a little inspiration note to be read at the ceremony. And I've been wracking my brain to write something inspiring to a precocious five-year-old.

I'm reading Emerson's Self-Reliance essay and a collection of essays from NPR's "This I Believe" series. I so want her to chase her dreams, never give up, find something she loves to do ...

I really believe these things, but I don't live them. There's the rub.

This happens when you're a parent

This is the song I sing when I help E. comb her hair:

To the tune of Boy George's "Karma Chameleon."

Comb-a, Comb-a, Comb-leon.
We're combing up, we're coming down...

Repeat.

Life with Gifted Child, Part 1

E. is now 5 years old. She's been reading for a couple of years now. She gets so engrossed in a book that she won't hear anything.

Me: E., E.!!? Time to get jammied up.
Me: E., please get into your pajamas.
Me: E., can you get into your jammies?

Nothing. Head still stuck in book. Finally...

Me: E., get out of your clothes and if you can answer these questions, you can win back your pajamas.

Quick as a flash, she strips off her clothes and gets her pajamas.

E: Go ahead. I'm ready.
Me: Okay, if you can answer this question, you can put on your pajama top: What's the capital of California?
E: Sacramento.
Me: Now for your bottoms, if you have 20 bananas and you buy 5 more, how many bananas do you have?
E: 25.