She says...

It seems Bella and I regularly have a pretty entertaining dialogue.
Ever since the Presidential elections when I taught her who the two candidates were, Barack Obama's name has been an oft-mentioned one. At some point in our discussions, I tried to casually explain that there are different skin colors, and that Obama was a black man. It seemed pertinent due to the social climate and historic election. However, she has seized upon the notion that he is first and foremost, a Black Man. That is who he is. When asked 'Who is Barack Obama?' she quickly answers, 'A black man.' Yes, but what else is he? "He has black skin.' Yes, I know, but he is also the pprrrreeeesss.... 'Presto!' No. The President of the United States. She had a run where she asked me if every single black person we saw was Barack Obama. (Keep in mind that the black population in Charlotte is about 40%.) That led to further discussion about skin color, that there are lots and lots of people with white skin, and lots and lots of people with black skin, but just because someone has black skin it does not necessarily mean they are Barack Obama. I'm afraid that just hammered in her notion of the importance of skin color, so I am trying to do some damage control by talking about how it doesn't matter. She asked me when we will see him, and I said probably never. She mentions his name a lot. Most recently when she asked if a guy passing the sacrament was Barack Obama, and today when she told me: 'I wish I was Barack Obama and could become the President.' Really? Do you want to be the President? When you grow up? 'No, when I grow up I want to be a puppy.' Oh.
I also love that she frequently tries to survey the emotional atmosphere in our home. I try and stress that emotions are okay, it's okay to feel certain ways as long as we express them or deal with them correctly. Because of this I try and use very clear statements like 'You are making me angry', or 'It makes me feel sad when you do that.' Now she has taken to feel out a situation by asking 'Are you mad? A little bit or a lot bit?', 'Are you happy?' Whenever she asks me if I am happy I have to pause and think about it. It's like a little reality check, a reminder from my little girl to be happy. She was frustrating me the other day as she was going potty and I left the bathroom, fuming a bit as I sought respite in the empty living room when she called out: 'Mom! Come back! I have a smile for you!'. I quickly made my way back, not caring that Fiona was sleeping in her nearby room while Bella yelled, to find a huge open-mouth grin on her face. That instantly changed my mood, my reaction, my perspective. She seems to do that a lot, come to think of it.