Mini me

Girlie has never been one to transition into new situations readily. As a toddler, she would stand at the edge of the playground watching all of the other kids play and if there was too much activity, as in get these crazy two year olds away from me with the shrieking and the running, it would send her over the edge and we'd have to leave pronto. When she started preschool she cried every time I dropped her off. She was also the only kid who cried when I picked her up. At age four, I took her to the Curious George movie, her first, and we had to ditch the movie after only fifteen minutes because she started crying when the monkey got separated from the man with the yellow hat. I assured her that he found the monkey eventually, reminded her that she'd seen the PBS shows, but nope. She was almost five years old before she set foot in a bouncy castle. The bouncing! The screaming! How could that be fun? She is seven now and isn't nearly as sensitive, but unfamiliar situations can throw her a little. She thrives on predictability and order.

From the moment she was born I think I have always identified myself with her. People say she looks just like me, a mini-me, and at one point we even kind of had the same haircut. So whenever this stuff comes up, I blame myself. I worry that I have passed my own crazy control issues on to her. Which is silly, of course, because she is part me, part Hubs, and a little bit of that magic that makes us each unique individuals. She is no more a miniature version of me, than I am of my mother. And I am so not my mother.

So a few weeks ago, the Girl Scouts had a backyard camp out and I knew she wouldn't be into it. I asked several times, and she considered it, but then said no. She agreed to go for the evening, but then she wanted to come home. I decided not to push it. I was heading out of town so I couldn't go with her and if she did go and then have a change of mind, Hubs would have to get Little Guy out of bed to pick her up.

Last night we were talking about Girl Scouts and the pre-campout fun and I asked her again why she didn't want to go. I reminded her that we had all been camping a few months ago and she'd loved it.

She said she didn't want to stay overnight because camping in someone's back yard was just weird. Why would she camp in a yard when she could just come home and get in her bed where she knew she'd be comfortable? She has a point.

Smart girl. Maybe exactly like me.