An open letter to my hypothetical daughter on why I will not call her "Princess."

Dear Harper,

I want to tell you something now. I know that you may never exist, but I feel like I need to get it out.

I need to break it to you: I won't be calling you Princess.

Yes, I know I can't control what you are interested in. I know. Your brother Jameson, now 2 1/2, loves BYU basketball and won't root for anyone else. ("Say 'go Utes!'" "No, just BYU.") This inspires so many deep sighs and so much time spent wondering how I will break it to your grandpa. So I know you might be a big Disney princess fan. And that is okay.

Secondly, I know that you actually are a princess, because you are the spirit daughter of a king, meaning God. And so is every other girl and woman IN THE WORLD. This does make you valuable, but it also makes everyone else on earth just as valuable.

It all happened when I read this article in Forbes. Giving girls strictly appearance-focused compliments and telling them what special princesses they are has always bothered me, but mostly because I feel awkward when unattractive children are told they're beautiful. Call me mean, but why lie? Why not just find some other stuff they're good at and give genuine compliments? Why is being beautiful the most important thing?

But the more I think about it, the more I realize, yes, doing this would actually damage your future. I'm not talking about allowing your to watch Tangled or play with Cinderella dolls. I'm talking about telling you that you ARE one of those characters.

Think about what a princess is portrayed as in these stories:

1. The most beautiful
2. More important than everyone else
3. Rules an entire kingdom
4. Is given everything without working, suffering, or going without

Can we now debunk those, one by one?

Firstly, a princess is the most beautiful. (Have you seen actual princesses? Not true.) Even if I believe that you are the most beautiful, (and what parents doesn't believe their children are the most beautiful, let's be honest) what a little bitty will you be when you get to school and start telling everyone you're the prettiest and acting like you're the prettiest? You have seen the little girls that look up at an adult just expecting that compliment about how adorable they are. It's not their fault. The world has been programming these little divas for generations and it needs to stop. We adults do hold some power.

Secondly, a princess is more important than everyone else. This is inherently flawed. First of all, a real princess serves her subjects. But as it concerns you, read this. I think it's very healthy for parents to tell their children that they are special...TO THEM. And I'll be doing that plenty. But no kid should be raised with the mentality that she is more special or important than anyone else. Hello entitled, hello inability to deal with rejection or failure, hello inability to make friends.

Thirdly, a princess rules an entire kingdom. Girl, you do not rule here in my house. Heck, this is not even a democracy. Sure, you're my child, I love you, and I want to hear about your thoughts and concerns and wishes and hopes. I do. They will be taken into consideration and validated. You will feel safe and heard. But you do not get a vote. I get a vote. Your dad gets a vote. The end. If it's more important to Dad than it is to me, he might get two votes. But regardless, there are only two people voting here, and you are not one of them.

Fourth, is given everything without working, suffering, or going without. I want you to be feel like you can achieve what you want, but I think my generation got pushed a little too hard toward this confidence. So far, in fact, that we overshot a little bit and were made to think we deserved, say, a high paying job with a company-paid iPhone right out of college, where we earned some history degree or something because it was our "passion," giving no thought for what would actually earn us a living, and no requirement to pay back our student loans. We've got these problems because our parents made us this way. They told us we were the prettiest princesses ever and also the most special and that we could have anything we want. But we can't! We just can't. So I hope that as parents, my generation can do a better job of keeping your feet on the ground. You'll work for your allowance to buy that toy. You'll do chores. Learn basic life skills. Be responsible for your stuff. Understand the disappointment of not being able to have everything you want, and learn to be okay with that.

I tell you this because I want to give you the skills and confidence to be self-reliant, to have perseverance, to try new things and to love and serve others - all beautiful traits - because I know you are strong and special (just like everyone else) and a loved daughter of God.

I hope to meet you in the coming years. Your brothers will love you, but beware, they show their love by wrestling and head-butting. You'll develop a thick skin at a young age. Your dad and I will love you. You'll have daddy-daughter dates. We'll bake together, do our nails together. There are lots of hugs and kisses in our house. Lots of playing and lots of laughing. You'll love it here, and we will love you! But we won't call you Princess. I hope that works for you, cuz that's how I roll.

Love,
Mom

Jamerisms II

After holding up half a bell pepper at his request, "*gasp* It's his nose!"

At the reminder that Grandpa was coming and he was going to get ice cream, "I love ice cream!" With his hands high in the air while sitting in a shopping cart.

While camping in our tent in the family room and trying to remember the word for sleeping bag, "I get in my blankie box and go to sleep."

Upon receiving his freshly laundered blanket after a puking spell, "*gasp, did you wash it off?!"

He loves Buzz, still. "Buzz Lightyear to the rescue!"

Growing impatient of Blake hogging the swing, and wanting a turn, "he wants to get down."

Running out to a 5-ish year old boy on his power wheel in the street, "hey little guy, are you riding that truck?!"

At the grocery store when an older man was walking our direction down the aisle, J: Look out, little guy! Me: He's not a little guy, he's a man. J: Watch out little man! Watch out! I'll catch you!

Seeing me carrying paint and supplies into the house: "Is that for painting? Are you excited for painting?"

"Mommy, where are my green shoes?" So much expression, inflection, perfect enunciation. 

Mark and I excited to see Pineview Reservoir and trying to get Jameson pumped up: "Calm down, guys."

First words as he wakes up at our family reunion: "I eat candy, watch Lego Movie! Does that sounds good?"

"Did you got your ____?" This is how he makes conversation. He sees you holding/wearing/using something and just fills in the blank with that object.

In his car seat with his blanket over his head, "look, I'm hiding!"

Trying to stall bedtime, "first Wreck it Ralph, then Curious George."

Holly: Jameson, what's Daddy's name? Jameson: Mark! Blake, what's Mommy's name?"

"It's 'bout called _____." To tell us the name of anything.

"That be fun?" Whenever proposing an idea.

Suddenly, as we carried on a conversation in the car, "don't talk to me."

Both boys were drinking bath water with bubbles all over their mouths. Mark: Don't drink the bath water. You'll get diarrhea Do you WANT diarrhea? Jameson, taking another sip: I want diarrhea!

"Can you come outside wif me?" "Can we do it togever?" EVERYTHING. Playing outside, eating lunch, running in circles, etc.

I hosted bunco last week, and when Jameson saw his primary teacher coming up the front steps, he let out one long, shrill screech while running around in circles.

Every time he sees camping gear in the garage: "That's for camping with Daddy." He went on the father-son campout with Mark a couple months ago and still talks about it.
When I was wearing my floral apron: "Did you got your bib on? Does it have weeds and grapes on your bib?"
Excited about going to the museum with Dad: "And you take your bib off and get in the car! And we go to the party with Mommy! With my blanket and my sandwich!"
Holly: I love you boys, but at 7:30, I'm ready to clock out. Jameson: I want to clock out, too! I want to clock out with you!

Jamerisms

Jameson's getting to the age where I need to start writing down the funny things he says. Here are a couple:

The other night, Jameson flushed the toilet while Mark was helping him brush his teeth. Mark told Jameson to stop doing that because it wastes water. Jameson said, "It's not water, it's bathroom!"

A couple weeks ago, we were grocery shopping and I put a can of cashews in the cart, noting that they were for Daddy. "Daddy's nuts!" Jameson exclaimed.

On Sunday I was putting tights on, getting ready for church. Jameson stroked my shin and said, "it's handsome."

He is a bossy kid. Tonight he told Mark, "no dance."

He steps on the scale, looks down and says, "46 dollars!" Then, "you try too, Mommy." I'd rather not, thanks.

He is a hungry kid. He asks for snacks immediately after a meal. He asks for birthday cake pretty much every day. (boyday cake)

He is speaking in sentences now, even though it takes him a while to get through it sometimes. The other day at the park, he went down the slide, then said to Mark, "you go slide too, Daddy." Kind of stammering.

He is also learning his letters! I was quizzing him with some lettered blocks and I was so impressed with his retention. He has a puzzle that spells his name, and he knows those letters, but he also knows X, and any letter that has a long "e" sound, he calls "e." I think he can't quite hear the difference between them yet, but he will mimic the correct pronunciation when I correct him.

He tells Blake to calm down, and to stop whining. Like I said, bossy.

He likes makeup. He digs in mine all the time, sometimes successfully applying lip liner or eye shadow in broad sweeping motions on his cheek. He is almost always upset when I wash it off.

We're trying to get him to stop sucking his thumb. It's slow.

He sings Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star and is learning the ABC song.

Any up-tempo party song is "BYU basaketball music." He loves going to basketball games, and loves BYU. Sometimes when he's up in his bed (in time-out for hitting Blake, mostly), I hear him shouting "B.....Y.....U!" We try to get him to cheer for Utah and Utah State, but about half the time he'll respond, "just BYU."

He almost always says thank you. His please skills are slipping, so we're working on that.

He recognizes Conrad's house when we drive by, even if we aren't stopping.

He gives big hugs.

He tells Blake he's sorry when he pushes him down, throws toys at his face, or slams his head into the wall (although with how often he does these things, I doubt these are sincere apologies).

He likes Buzz Lightyear and will offhandedly mention to me that Buzz is stationed in Sector 4.

During breakfast, he likes to say "hi" to everything. "hello table, hello clock, hello bird, hello light," etc. Waving at everything.

He has a 100% success rate at hearing the garbage truck outside and hearing a plane fly overhead.

He is an encouraging kid. He says things like, "you can do it, Mommy!"

He gets frustrated, stopping on the stairs to hold his hand to his forehead and exasperatedly say, "holy crap."

Since Christmas

January was a blur, just like every other month. Well, let's back up a little because this post will include Christmas. By way of update, Jameson has two of his 2-year molars. I always blame his temper tantrums on the other two coming in, but let's be honest, the kid's two and emotional meltdowns are par for the course.

The boys are loving each other a little more. They make each other laugh, which is adorable. And then sometimes Jameson repeatedly rams his metal Tonka truck into Blake's head, for which some reason Blake doesn't like.

Yesterday I was getting dinner ready. Blake was napping in his crib, but I wanted him to wake up soon, so the door was open. I heard Jameson laughing, so I went to see what was going on. I sneaked in as stealthily as I could because I suspected I was going to walk in on something that would melt my mommy heart. What I saw kind of alarmed and impressed me. Jameson had used the glider to climb into Blake's crib, and he had somehow brought with him a truck or two. Jameson was jumping and laughing and talking to Blake, and Blake was unharmed and appeared happy. I didn't really want to encourage Jameson climbing on the furniture like that, I mean he could have really gotten hurt if he fell just right, but I was so curious that I asked him to show me how he did it. He tried to repeat it, but kept falling. It was just a lucky moment, I guess!

Jameson has started having play dates with other kids in the neighborhood. It is so cute to watch. He was playing with a neighbor girl at our house on Thursday, and I couldn't believe how well they interacted. They galloped around the house side by side, counting to ten, then stood on the coffee table, jumping around in circles counting to ten, then took turns trying on a hat.

Blake sits up now! He is also starting to get really grabby. He's more interested in toys and reaching for whatever he can get his hands on. He also screams like a pterodactyl. I see his two bottom teeth starting to come in, which could take a couple more months. He is a really happy baby. He still isn't sleeping through the night. Last week, he actually did it three nights in a row, but now he's getting up three times a night again. He sucks his thumb and still likes to snuggle.

"Hiiiii, brother." Wearing the cute matching jammies from my parents.

Both smiling - this is truly a miracle.

Jameson got the Little People Zoo from Santa Claus. It was a hit! Here he holds the androgynous Guatemalan zookeeper. (That sounded racist.)

The day before Christmas Eve, we got the boys' pictures taken at Penney's. It went amazingly well, despite the melancholy that Jameson demonstrates here. And about that thumb sucking...yes...we are working on it.

Blake sits up as of January 28th. He thinks he's hot stuff, and he's right.

Five months old! He loves his monkey. I find him sleeping on his side with his face smashed into the monkey's belly.

"Uh-oh, kisses?" Jameson has learned that a kiss from Mom makes owies feel better, and he takes advantage of it often. Sometimes asking for "another one?" if one kiss didn't help.

I was trying to take a picture of Blake playing in his exersaucer, when...

...Jameson wanted in on the action, so we took a selfie with my phone's super blurry front-cam.

My mom knitted this adorable, soft blanket for Jameson. It came in the mail when J was sleeping, so Blake tried it out. He approves.

"Sit on chair, take picture?" Well, how could I resist?

This is what you get when you try to get the LaRocco boys to take a photo with Santa.

The circa New Years' Day timeframe when I realize, "oh, I should have taken a picture of them in front of the Christmas tree!"