I embrace your creativity, perhaps more than the average parent. You've taken over the kitchen table with your scratch paper and markers, pipe cleaners and stamp pads, glue sticks and stickers.
Fifty percent of the freedom I give you is a conscious effort to not helicopter, to not step in when you can do for yourself, to let you gain confidence in your problem solving abilities, to not give you any preconceived notions or to shape your idea of what something should be.
I won't lie; the other 50% of the reason I don't intervene in your creative endeavors, whether at what we now call the "Art Table" or whether playing "dress up, pack your bags and fly to Hawaii"--is because I'm just not paying attention.
No one's losing an eye. And whatever you mess you make just doesn't bother me THAT much. What's more scraps of paper on the ground? And red hand prints on the white cabinets? Nothing a vacuum and Magic Eraser (tee emm) can't fix!
I don't think my parents let me "get away" with this kind of stuff. With making messes, however creative. I don't remember having any dress-up clothes. (But, Lola did sew some bomb-diggity Halloween costumes in her day. That, I will not deny.)
Your Auntie Ningang KT just told me that she uses you as a little anecdote to others about how you're not overly into Disney Princesses. That is to say, you like them, we watch them, I'm not anti-Disney Princess of anti-frill, but at the end of the day you were Buzz and Jessie for Halloween. You are equally excited about pretending you're a robot ballerina or a pirate princess.
I like your creativity and freedom of expression.
But, sometimes I wonder...
While working on a sewing project the other day, I handed over the scraps to you girls. And this is what you came up with, whilst my sewing machine was whirring away:
Bel made Buzz a pair of undies with a heart sticker on the crotch--a little Magic Mike-esque if I must say--Intergalactic Space Ranger by day and, well, you know, by night. I'm sure it was nothing like that; in your current potty-training reversion, I'm certain you just wanted to hook your buddy up with a little extra however-be-it-stickered, night time protection. You're quite considerate like that. And fancy too.
And in a fitting comparison of personalities, Danjo just horded the fabric I handed to her, threw in some torn paper scraps and made her mini-Buzz a little nest next to the wine rack. It's gonna be a long night.